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wandaverse · 21 hours ago

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meet me in the pale moonlight.

vampire countess!wanda x human painter!reader

summary: In the early 1870s, the young and renowned Y/N arrives in the bustling New York City looking for a new start. Little does she know that a creature of the night lurks in the shadows and that there’s something sinister about the woman she’s become enamoured of, the elusive Countess Maximoff.

warnings/tags: dom!wanda, fem sub!reader, smut, oral, cunniIingus, fingering, mas0chism, blood klnk, hints of humiliation and praise klnk, thigh and foot riding, age gap if you squint, wanda calls r pet, 18+ / MINORS DNI

word count: 10,284

moodboard

Clipping your bag safely back onto your belt, you bid the kind dressmaker farewell and motion to leave her Madison Avenue boutique.

Several days ago and after a rather lengthy trip aboard a steamship across the Atlantic, you finally arrived in the hustling and bustling New York City, the city of dreams in the land of opportunity.

Over the years, you have developed quite a respectable reputation as a commissioned portrait artist for the wealthy with an admired talent that both boosts their egos as well as your own wealth. After a lifetime of travelling across the European continent, you decided to migrate to the Americas in search of a new opportunity, or rather a muse to reignite your inspiration and maybe for a little fun on the side too.

The dressmaker quickly assures you that she’ll have your clothes ready by the end of the week, a welcome relief since you’re still waiting for your remaining belongings to arrive by sea.

On your way out of the boutique, you thank her one last time, not paying attention to your surroundings and distractedly bumping into another woman with a fright.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry! Are you quite alright?” the esteemed lady apologises profusely.

You swiftly regain your bearings and brush her off. “It is no problem at all. I apologise as well for not watching where I was going,” you say guiltily.

The instant you both glance up though, she seemingly forgets about the entire ordeal. You recognise immediately the starstruck look on her face that can only mean that she somehow knows who you are, that word of your talents has already travelled across the seas through migrated aristocrats and the like.

“My word! You’re Y/N Y/L/N, aren’t you?” she asks breathlessly.

With a smirk that you try your best to mask as humble, you can’t deny the pride of being so quickly recognised in this new city.

“Indeed I am, a pleasure to make your acquaintance Ms…?”

“Agatha Harkness, dear, but my friends call me Agnes. It’s lovely to meet you,” she introduces with a shake of your extended hand. “Say, I don’t believe I heard word that you were in our fine city. And I assure you, I would have if it were known. No news gets past me. If anything, I’m always the first to know.”

You bet she is, you nod overwhelmed, quietly taking in the words of someone who is clearly a gossip.

There’s an odd and rather manic intensity about her, you notice. You brush it off as the typical artificial friendliness of the elite and especially of the nouveau riche, which you suspect Agnes is.

And yet, it still feels like something is off about her, like she’s not quite herself, a peculiar strain in her smile and an emptiness behind her eyes. How odd.

“I only arrived a few days ago, is why. All my luggage hasn’t even arrived yet.”

“I see… if that’s the case, why I don’t suppose I could commission you then? Be the first American to have their very own Y/L/N painting?” she requests giddily.

Her excitement rubs off on you, no matter how eerie, and you can’t deny her. “Well, I don’t see why not. I’ll have my people be in contact with you to sort out the details soon.”

“My, I can’t believe my luck!” she celebrates. “Oh! You must attend my gala tonight. Please, be my guest of the evening. Let me have the honour of being the one to introduce you to our society here.”

Once again, you’re charmed by her fierce enthusiasm. “Of course, the honour shall be mine.”

Frankly, you don’t really think it’ll be any different from the circles you traversed in Europe, but who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone intriguing.

—

Later that evening, long after the sun has already set, you step out of your personal carriage at Harkness Hall, located in the newer district of the Upper East Side.

Politely being escorted through the manor, you finally arrive at the ballroom and when the grand doors open, all eyes instantly land on you as you are faced with similar expressions of recognition as Agnes’. Said woman speedily and yet somehow elegantly races up the steps, rushing to your side.

Delicately tapping a fork against the side of her champagne glass, she easily silences the commotion in the crowd below. “Might I have your attention, my friends, to introduce you to my esteemed guest of the evening, the wonderfully talented Miss Y/N Y/L/N.”

As soon as she finishes, a rush of wealthy men and women alike gasp and rush to the foot of the stairs. Agnes proudly links her arm around yours, as if you were childhood friends instead of mere acquaintances, and leads you down the stairs into the pit that awaits you. For a second, and only a second, a rush of anxiety ambushes you but you mask it with some well-practiced charm.

For the next while, Agnes personally introduces you to all the socialites interested in portraits of their own, showing off the fact that she is your first client.

You quickly tire of their suffocating attention and it’s only when you peer past the crowd that you notice that one lone woman hasn’t so much as flinched at your presence, instead remaining in the shadows along the walls and gracing you with only a mere glance.

As the night rages on, you curiously observe the intriguing woman from across the ballroom. With a keen eye, you take note of her every detail. Of her deep burgundy gown so dark it almost resembles blood when illuminated in the light, of her thin black birdcage veil that covers her eyes behind the intricate lace, and committing it all to memory.

She moves with a certain refined grace you’ve only seen few nobles possess and despite primarily keeping to herself, exudes an intimidating and rather domineering aura felt throughout the hall. Only a few dare to approach her, some men who don’t know any better and a few attendants who don’t have any other choice. Every so often, she catches your gaze and you almost feel the air leave your lungs.

When the crowd eventually disperses, you pull at the link between your and Agnes’ arms and inquire about your newest interest. “Agnes, might I ask, that woman over there standing alone by the fireplace, who is she?”

“Ahh, why that would be the elusive Countess Maximoff. Our Lady Wanda hails from a distant European kingdom, or so she says. Frankly, she could be anyone from anywhere in the world considering how little we all know about her,” she briefly explains.

Countess Wanda Maximoff, you recite in your mind. A fascinating yet beautiful name for an equally as alluring woman.

“She’s a well-known and respected socialite in this city. In fact, she might even be the richest of all of us, but no one knows for sure, just as no one knows exactly what she is a Countess of,” Agnes continues, unprompted. Internally, you thank her for being so nosy.

“I must apologise, unfortunately that is really all I know about her. She was already residing in New York when I arrived from Salem many months ago,” she admits. “I do know, however, that she has no husband or family of her own. The rumours are that she had a husband once and that he either died or simply disappeared. Either way, she isn’t a typical woman of our society.”

Lost in thought, you take in her words, all serving to only interest you more and more in the stunning yet seemingly solitary woman.

“Miss Y/N,” Agnes calls, breaking you out of your intense trance as you stare at the mysterious woman. “I must tell you, Lady Maximoff is actually currently staying as a guest at Harkness Hall. For a few days now actually, and for the next while when you complete my portrait.”

Oh?

Why doesn’t that make things all the more interesting…

“Y/N, it’s best that you stay away from her. Trust me, there’s something unusual about her that one must not associate themselves with,” Agnes warns you seriously, a stark contrast from the enthusiastic and bubbly person you’ve become familiar with today.

You turn to her and look in her eyes again. For the first time today, you detect a clarity in them, a genuineness that only confuses you more.

“Agnes, may I ask, why did you accept her as a guest if you dislike her so?” you question.

“No one says no to Wanda Maximoff,” Agnes replies ominously. “Every so often, she requests to stay with one of her ‘friends’ for a short while. It turns out that this time I drew the short straw. She always has some sort of excuse, she told me that her estate is undergoing works, but I’m certain she has other properties. All I know is you don’t disobey a woman like her.”

You give some thought to Agnes’ words, to her warnings and the seeping fear that comes through. And yet, the idea of such a strange woman, defiant to the strict norms of high society, who you don’t disobey, only intrigues you more and more.

You regard the woman in red and decide in the moment that no matter what, you’re going to solve the mystery of the elusive Wanda Maximoff, even if it kills you.

Dismissing Agnes’ warnings and brushing off her arm that attempts to pull you back, you waltz across the room and beeline toward Wanda. In the corner of your eye, you spot horrified looks from the other socialites around the room, but ignore them all the same and focus only on the woman in front of you watching you approach her with an amused yet impressed eye.

And you’re glad you do because up close, the Lady Maximoff is absolutely and entirely striking, breathtaking and enchanting and every other word you would use if you were a poet instead of an artist staring at her new muse.

Her milky skin is notably pale and perfectly contrasts against her chocolate brown hair, so soft you almost want to run your hands through the layered strands. Studying her bone structure, you note that it’s incredibly sharp and accentuated by the shadows, making her resemble a sculpture carved from marble come to life. Even under the lace veil, her eyes are enchanting, a clear sage green that complements her dark maroon dress.

For the first second or two, you find yourself rather speechless, the entire English language suddenly disappearing from your vocabulary as you take in her beauty.

In the same second, you notice offhandedly that she too rakes her eyes up and down your form. Feeling a shiver run down your spine under the weight of her gaze, you hope she appreciates the sight as much as you appreciate yours.

“Hello, Y/N Y/L/N, my lady,” you manage to say and extend your hand towards her.

“I know,” she replies with a smirk, seemingly entertained by your courage (or stupidity). “You’ve been quite popular tonight, among the ladies especially. The woman of the evening I hear.”

A part of you is secretly delighted. That means she’s noticed you just as much as you’ve noticed her. The other part is dazedly captivated by the deep lilt in her accent, hinting at whichever secretive European land she originates from, a part of the mystery you seek to soon unravel.

“And whose company do I have the pleasure of being graced with, might I ask?” you tease.

In response, she simply smirks at your charming attempts and finally accepts your hand. “Countess Wanda Maximoff,” she formally introduces, “but I’m sure you already knew that too.”

Delicately, you clasp her gloved hand in yours and place an innocent kiss below the back of her silk-covered knuckles. Proudly, you earn another smile from her at the endearing impropriety of a young girl pressing a gentlemanly kiss on the back of her hand.

“You’re awfully bold, aren’t you?” she remarks with a cock of her head.

“Artists love beautiful things,” you smirk. “It just so happens I’ve found the most beautiful of all.”

She scrunches her nose as she cringes at your flirtatious attempt. You don’t regret your words though when you mean it so sincerely.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Miss Y/L/N?” she asks, skipping the pretenses. “I’m sure you’ve already heard all the things they say about me.”

“I don’t care about them and what they have to say. I’d rather hear it all from you instead,” you profess.

Peering down at her wine glass, she smiles again at your attempts to charm her. This one seems a little more genuine though, a sign that your persistence (and perhaps, foolishness) is slowly piercing through her walls.

She looks back up at you and seemingly ponders your unsaid request as she pensively sips her wine. At last, she says, “Alright then, what would you like to know?”

You grin cheekily at having so easily won her favour. “Well for starters, pray tell me, which land do you come from?”

“Europe,” she answers simply.

You both know that you already knew that, both because Agnes already told you as well as the evident hints of Slavic you identify in her accent.

“Where might one find your county of ownership though, my Countess?” you attempt to press.

“I’m sure you’d like to know,” she teases with another smirk, just as mysterious and secretive as Agnes described.

You’ve spent your entire life travelling through Europe’s High Societies, from the Parisian aristocracy to Florence’s art scene, and yet you’ve never heard of or seen her before this night. And you’d certainly remember if you did, she’s not a face one forgets.

“So, we’re playing this game, are we?”

“You started it, Miss Y/L/N,” she matches your teasing tone.

You’ve noticed that she only calls you by your name formally, keeping a distance between the two of you despite having let you in more than anyone else tonight.

You’re even more aware of all the eyes on you, watching like hawks as your interaction plays out. How odd of a pair you must be, a sight to behold you’re sure. You’re keenly aware of how you’re likely equally as intriguing and alien as she is. How your existence defies the rigid social norms; a girl of your standing able to dance through high society while working to accumulate your own wealth and remaining single at a less than conventional age. You wonder if perchance, in this way, you interest her as much as she interests you.

Clearing your throat, you decide to accept that this is as much as you’ll learn about her tonight. “Agnes tells me you’re staying as a guest at Harkness Hall,” you segue instead.

Tilting her head once again, she lifts an eyebrow in curiosity. “That would be correct.”

“As I’m sure you’ve heard by now, I have been commissioned to paint a portrait for Ms Harkness.” Gently, you once again place a kiss on the back of her resting hand. “I suppose we’ll be seeing more of each other then,” you quietly bid farewell before walking away, not turning back although you know she’s following you with a curious eye.

Later throughout the night, the other cautious elites approach you one by one, all warning you to stay away from Wanda. There’s a certain look in their eyes that you can’t quite decipher yet, resembling that of Agnes’ expression if you really think about it. Something akin to fear or intimidation or something in between and like they’re trying to tell you something they can’t say with words. Their warnings only serve to further interest you in the Countess and the mystery that surrounds her though.

Returning your gaze to the woman before you depart for the evening, you find her already staring fervently at you with a smile you can only describe as devilish. Her pearly white teeth seem to sparkle under the chandelier’s light and you swear that from this side of the ballroom, you spot a glimmer of red in her eyes under the veil.

But, when you remember her beautiful green eyes, you suppose it’s simply a trick of the light.

—

The day after the next, you return to Harkness Hall for your first session with Agnes.

The moment you step foot through the doors, you instantly search for Wanda but are dismayed to fail in your pursuit, not even hearing word of her throughout the entire day. From morning to night, while you’re painting in Agnes’ drawing room or enjoying lunch with her in the garden, you never see Wanda even once.

You suppose it’s a large estate so it’s not hard to believe that your paths wouldn’t cross, but the thought does nothing to dispel the persistent pout on your face.

You honestly try your very hardest to focus on the woman posing in front of you, but the task is near impossible. You almost want to ask Agnes about Wanda, where she is and what she’s doing, but you suppose that would be highly improper. Not that you would typically care, you’d just rather not let it be known how taken you’ve become with her.

It’s only later that evening when you walk through the estate to take your leave, around the eleventh hour after the sun has already set and the hustle and bustle of Harkness Hall has come to a standstill, that your eyes once again find the Countess’ solitary form.

Bathed in the moonlight, the Lady sits by herself in the courtyard facing away from you. You’re once again struck by her beauty. In this pure light and under the night sky, her ivory skin almost glows. You briefly ponder the idea that she could be an angel descended from the heavens above.

Seemingly sensing your presence, despite how stealthily you’d hidden yourself behind the doorway, she spins around faster than you can blink and catches you.

“Miss Y/L/N,” she remarks with a drawl and that sinisterness that makes you think that more accurately, she must be a fallen angel sent to this world by the devil himself.

Matching your intense gaze, she simply says, “Come,” beckoning you to her side.

And you obey without a single objection, padding across the courtyard and placing yourself in the seat beside her obediently.

“I heard you were here painting Agnes today,” she brings up cordially.

Your eyes drop down and you notice her drinking something in her glass that oddly looks a little too dark and thick to be wine, that leaves a deep cherry stain on her lips that would otherwise be an unusual lipstick shade. You equally notice that despite her attempts at pleasant small talk, she doesn’t make any attempts to offer you a glass of whatever it is she’s drinking.

“I was,” you affirm. “I was….” hoping to see you, you trail off and keep to yourself, not wanting to seem desperate in her eyes despite how desperate for her attention you truly are.

She smiles to herself, seemingly hearing your confession all the same. She has a way of reading you without you saying a word.

“And how are you finding it so far?”

“It’s going as well as it can. Agnes is a wonderful subject,” you share, hiding the fact that the only woman you wanted to paint today was her.

A beat of silence passes, only the soft breeze of winter heard in the space you share.

“Have you ever sat for a portrait before?” you ask.

Shaking her head thoughtfully, she answers “No, never.”

“Why, might I ask? Your beauty is one I’m sure hundreds would flock to capture on canvas and stone.”

Inwardly, she smirks at your unrelenting boldness. “Yes… be that as it may, it’s not one I’m happy to share with the world for all to see,” she answers just as cryptically as everything else she’s told you thus far.

You suspect there’s a deeper and very real reason to it, but don’t question further. You’re happy to take as much as she gives you, as little as it is.

“Would you let me paint you one day?” you ask honestly.

Wistfully, she turns to glance up at the scattered stars in the clear sky, musing on your offer. “Perhaps,” she finally turns to look at you again, “if you’re a good girl.”

A fierce blush rushes to your cheeks as she gets up and caresses your chin with her gloved hand before leaning down and placing a fleeting kiss on the very cheek reddened by her teasing. As she saunters away from you, you watch her go and dazedly wonder if whatever she was drinking left its own stain on your skin.

Only when she walks past a statement mirror in the hallway are you pulled out of your trance. You can’t see her reflection, you remark.

Confused, you give it little thought before reasoning that it must be your tired eyes playing a trick on you.

—

Over the coming days, you return to Harkness Hall for your work with Agnes and continue seeking Wanda’s company.

Every time though, you only ever locate her after the sun’s gone down or alone in some secluded space like the library or tea room with the windows shut.

This time, you lose the fight and ask Agnes about her peculiar behaviour. She tells you that the Countess typically goes out at night and only returns in the early hours of the morning. Otherwise, during the day she either slumbers until the early afternoon or rests indoors.

Agnes doesn’t quite understand it either, but she’s neither questioning it nor complaining when it makes it a little easier for her to avoid the Lady. You thank her for her explanation (gossip), but it only piques your curiosity more and more, as does everything else you learn about Wanda.

Every time you do cross her path though, she always invites you to sit with her. Most of the time, she nurses a glass of the too-dark-and-too-thick wine. You never ask for a glass of your own or a taste and she never offers.

And every time, you find yourself entranced by her beauty for at least a minute or two or typically, much more. At times, you think she must be from another world, one so delicate and divine that man cannot and must not touch it lest it be corrupted. Other times you think her beauty is simply not human and must be a form of corruption of its own. But maybe that’s just the dramatic artist in you.

You’re saddened to say that after all this time though, you still don’t know much more about her, the mystery still largely unsolved. You know that she’s rich, she’s alone, and she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on, which is essentially everything you already knew from the first night you met her.

She does occasionally share some stories with you though, of her life when she was younger in the foreign Slavic land you still haven’t identified. She tells you of growing up in a castle at the top of a mountain, of being bathed in the riches of love. “I’ve lost all the family I’ve ever known,” she confesses the next evening after you share stories of your own rough upbringing.

As always, she remains cryptically vague with every word she offers you, never giving you details and always leaving you wanting more.

Sometimes, she even reveals glimpses of her other facets like her interests and apparent appreciation for the theatre. “There’s a new musical on Broadway that I believe you’d enjoy,” she remarks offhandedly. Despite your attempts to suppress it, you feel a fluttering sensation within you at the prospect of seeing the Countess outside the walls of Harkness Hall, of even courting her if she allowed.

You’d like to think that you’re the only one honoured to hear these words from her, that you’re someone special to her as she is to you.

Other times when you come upon wherever she’s hiding and she doesn’t instantly detect you, you watch her quietly from the shadows, hiding away and observing her peaceful form. You fetch your pocket pad from the bag on your waist and roughly sketch her reading, birdwatching, embroidering or simply gazing at the night sky.

Then, you return home and paint her as accurately from memory as you can, attempting to capture her beauty with oil paints and canvas.

One day, you hope you’ll have a chance to show her how she’s become your muse and how you see her unlike anyone else.

—

Almost a week has passed since you started painting Agnes and you only know because you’ve been committing every encounter with the Lady Maximoff to memory.

Over the days, you’ve become comfortable and developed a routine of sorts for yourself. Around mid-morning, you arrive at Agnes’ manor and recommence work right away. Once noon comes, you have lunch with her in her expansive garden and enjoy tea with Wanda in the mid-afternoon if you can locate her, otherwise you greet her on your departure in the evening.

For the short while, you develop a new normal, which makes it all the weirder when a sense of unease overcomes the city and its inhabitants. From your own maids and coachmen to Agnes and the other elites you come across, everyone all of a sudden seems on edge. Almost like a blanket of doom and gloom has been laid over the city.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, it’s only Wanda who seems normal and unperturbed when you find her in her usual lounge chair in the courtyard under the moonlit sky. Once again, you obediently take the seat beside her.

Tonight, you can’t help but notice that she’s not nursing her favoured drink and if it were possible, she appears more pale than ever. You want to ask if she is well, but instead of overstepping, you decide to ask why everyone seems so off.

Pensively, she oddly smiles at your question and peer up at the sky. You follow her line of sight and see that the moon tonight is full and bright.

“Be careful, Miss Y/L/N,” is all she says as you turn to her again. There’s an unsettling look in her eye, like she knows something you don’t.

“You never know what’s hiding in the shadows, what creatures of the night lurk in the dark,” she warns ominously before turning to you and flashing a blinding smile. “One wouldn’t want something to happen to a pretty young thing like you.”

You gulp at her forbidding words and sudden predatory appearance, left only more confused and unnerved than ever. Flustered, you avert your gaze and miss the flash of crimson in her eyes.

—

The following evening, you’re half asleep in your carriage home when you abruptly realise you forgot a broken easel that you wanted to have fixed at Harkness Hall. Having requested your coachman retrieve it for you, you now patiently wait in your carriage in front of the estate.

Leaning your cheek on the window with a pout, you’re a little saddened since you didn’t see Wanda at all today, the first time it’s happened all week.

When you asked one of Agnes’ maids where the Lady was, she said she hadn’t seen Wanda all day either which meant she must’ve still been asleep since she didn’t hear her return until just before dawn. But then even on your way out a few moments ago, you still couldn’t find her in any of her usual hiding spots to your dismay.

Staring out solemnly at the Upper East Side streets, you notice that it’s a lot quieter than usual. This district is typically much busier, even at this late hour with the wealthy enjoying their night on the town.

However, it seems everyone is as on edge as they were the previous day. Most people have opted to stay inside with the windows shut, leaving the streets mostly empty barring a few passersby and dimly lit lamp posts. Even your coachman seemed a little less willing than usual to fulfil your request, as if he just wanted to rush the both of you home to safety. From what, you’re not too sure.

Sleepily, you lift your gaze and stare at the moon, slightly fuller and even brighter than it was the night before, having just reached the peak of its cycle.

You admire its alluring beauty for a brief second until something in the alley across the road from your carriage catches your eye; a lone man and woman hidden in the shadows. You think they must be one of the only people who don’t fear what everyone else does to be lingering in the darkness like this.

Intrigued, you study the pair when something strikes you. The woman throws her head back laughing and you catch a glimpse of her canines, so pearly and sharp you’re almost sure they look like fangs.

It’s only when you narrow your eyes and the woman leans forward out of the shadows into the light that you realise with a start, it’s Wanda.

—

When the sun rises and morning comes, you wake up safe in your bed but just as shaken.

With the calming of your heart, you reason that the events of the night before must have been a dream or even a hallucination of your tired mind. But you’ve been making the same excuse a lot lately and the image is etched so realistically in your memory it must be real.

In a daze, you ready yourself for the day and go to the dining room for the breakfast awaiting you. Perhaps some food in your stomach will wake you up from whatever this is, you think.

You’re distractedly munching on some berries when your handmaiden enters the room with a boiled kettle for your morning tea. It seems that the water isn’t the only thing bubbling this morning though.

“Miss! Have you heard the news?” she asks worriedly.

“I can’t say I have,” you answer, shaking your head. “What appears to have happened?”

“My, there’s been a murder! In an alley near Harkness Hall!”

Your blood instantly runs cold and you freeze like a bucket of cold water has been thrown on you.

“W-what?”

“A young man in his early 20s, foolish enough to stay out late on a full moon. They say his body was otherwise unmarked except for two puncture wounds in his neck. The sheriffs think it’s the Moonlit Killer again!” she frantically explains, every word striking your shaky bones.

“The Moonlit Killer?” you whisper to yourself in thought. “Who is that?”

“The city, no the state’s, very own serial killer, miss! No one knows who it is and they haven’t been caught yet, but for over a year now there have been murders across New York every full moon,” she tells you, the kettle completely forgotten as well as your breakfast which you know for certain you can no longer stomach with the tightening of your throat.

“The victims always match each other too, always young men taken in dark alleys and left with only two punctures in their necks.”

Like fangs…, you piece together.

It all makes sense now, why everyone was so on edge with the arrival of the full moon.

Quietly, you think back to what you witnessed last night. You’re sure it was Wanda. You would recognise her anywhere, in a crowded ballroom or even a… dark alleyway.

An image forms in your mind and you quickly race to your studio, ignoring the concerned calls of your handmaiden. You pull out a fresh canvas and your brushes and you paint and paint and paint.

You paint Wanda’s unusually pale ivory skin. You paint her red irises that you’ve seen on occasion. And lastly, you paint the sharp fangs you saw last night that lie where any other person’s canines would.

Once you’ve finished, you step back to take in your rough portrait and drop your brush in shock.

It can’t be…

You’ve only heard tales of them during your travels when instances similar to last night’s rocked the cities you visited. You’ve only seen frightening drawings of them in books that told farfetched legends of the undead.

Creatures of the night, skin as pale as the moon, pearly white fangs as sharp as blades, and most of all, eyes the colour of scarlet.

Everything suddenly makes sense now, pieces fall into place as the mystery is finally solved.

The glasses she’s always drinking of some liquid that looks too dark and thick to be wine must have been blood all this time and her main source of sustenance since you’ve never seen her eat a single crumb.

The way she oddly sleeps during the day and always shies away from sunlight, because if she didn’t she would quite literally be burned.

How you’re sure you’ve never seen her reflection in mirrors or water or windows because she doesn’t in fact have a soul to reflect.

Why no matter how much you asked around or researched about the elusive Countess, you could never obtain any information dating back earlier than over a year ago, precisely when the Moonlit Killer started taking their victims.

And how you’re certain that if you matched the homes of the other aristocrats she stayed with to the locations of the killings, it would all line up perfectly.

Countess Maximoff is… a vampire.

With the realisation, you’re filled with frightening clarity, both proudly smug at having unearthed her secret and slightly fearful at the true nature of the woman you’ve become enamoured of. Foolishly, you thought it was your eyes playing tricks or simple coincidences, but it’s too much to be.

For a second, you even think you must be going crazy to be entertaining this thought. Wanda… the beautiful, alluring, and bewitching woman… is a vampire. A monster? How could someone so enchanting be so horrific, though? So cruel…

But then you remember the old wives’ tales about sirens and succubi and creatures of sin that seduce and corrupt with their otherworldly beauty and frankly, now you’re only more sure of your discovery.

And that’s when it hits you… there’s only one way to test your theory.

—

That evening, you put your plan into motion. You haven’t much time. You figure in a few days she’ll announce her departure from Harkness Hall and return to her estate until she has to hunt for the next full moon, so why wait to confirm something you’re already so sure of.

In the dead of night, you pad through her designated wing and sneak into her bedchambers, awaiting her eventual return in the early morning. Earlier, you sent your carriage home with a feigned excuse and listened carefully to confirm that Agnes had retired for the evening.

Making yourself comfortable on Wanda’s loveseat, you patiently survey the door and await her arrival, alone in the dark room lit only by a few ruby candles and the bright moonlight.

In the Winter night, you feel the cool breeze on your exposed skin and shiver, pulling your coat tighter around you. Beneath it, you wear nothing but a lace blood red nightgown that leaves your neck bare in hopes of enticing her.

As expected, she’s absent for most of the evening, you assume too preoccupied with hunting her prey. Tonight, the moon is at the absolute peak of its cycle. Her lust for blood must be uncontrollable, but the thought only excites you more.

You almost fall asleep against your hand propped up on the armrest when finally, sometime between the second and third hour, you hear a shuffle outside the door that instantly wakes you.

Creaking, the door opens to reveal the Countess you’ve been waiting for, clad in a black hooded cloak and dark burgundy dress. Dark enough to conceal any bloodstains, you realise.

You suspect the city will awake to news of another victim at the hand of the Moonlit Killer, but that’s for whatever awaits you after the sun rises. Right now, you have your mystery standing in front of you, surprised to say the least to see you in her bedchambers and especially at this hour.

In the dimly lit room, you can barely see her if it weren’t for her skin that seemingly glows under the moonlight and the fleeting glint of red in her eyes that show themselves when she lifts off her hood and removes her cloak.

She’s as beautiful to you now as she was before you knew what kind of creature she really is. The thought leaves you as breathless as the sight of her. You think you would have fallen for her no matter who, or rather what, she is.

Fully facing your standing figure now, she smirks, knowing that there is something different about you tonight and this encounter. A sense of pride fills you at her sinister expression.

“Miss Y/L/N, what a surprise to find you here. Have you gotten lost in the middle of the night, sweet thing? Sleepwalked from the other side of the city, perchance?” she asks playfully. There’s a hint of something new in her tone, something a little demeaning. You can’t say you hate it. No… not at all.

“No, my lady. There is something I wish to discuss with you.”

She simply lifts an eyebrow in response, signalling you to continue while she hangs up her cloak and only offers you part of her attention. You almost want to beg to have all of it.

“I’ve been watching you,” you admit.

“I know you have. And what have you so skillfully unearthed, Miss Y/L/N?”

With a nervous gulp, you confess, “I know your secret, what you hide from the others.” Her ears seem to perk up with interest at your admission, but she’s still unsettlingly calm about the revelation.

“I know why you sleep during the day and what you do during the night. I know why you avoid sunlight at all costs and why no one seems to know anything about you. I know what you are.”

At last, she turns to you and gives you her full and complete attention. As much as you previously desired it, you quickly find yourself wilting under the weight of her stare.

Crossing the room in three strides, she stands face-to-face before you. “Oh? And pray tell, what exactly am I?” she teases and finally unveils the true scarlet hue of her eyes with a tilt of her head, equally as stunning as the green if not more bewitching.

It leaves you in a state of vulnerable immobility like prey trapped in the clutch of its predator and you pull at the sleeves of your coat in an attempt to regain your courage. Distantly, you wonder if perhaps there’s more to her species that the myths don’t yet know about, that perhaps she wields sinister abilities to influence the mind which would explain the eerie nature of Agnes’ facade.

“You’re… you’re a…”

Intimidatingly, she stalks to you in a few weightless steps almost like a bat. Delicately pulling her satin gloves off and haphazardly tossing them to the wooden floor, she reveals her long sharp nails, claws really.

Getting closer in your space now, she takes your chin between her thumb and index finger and tilts your head up to face her, the chilled skin of a soulless body sends shivers through your bones.

Menacingly, she grins, no leers, at you and detracts her fangs, glistening in the moonlight and bared for you to see. Up close, it strikes you with an immediate fear, but also something equally as exciting that leaves a tightening sensation deep in your belly.

“Say it,” she whispers, her cool breath against your lips and sending a chill down your spine.

With a gulp, you finally bring yourself to say out loud, “You’re a vampire.”

If it were somehow possible, her grin grows even wider and more sinister and you briefly think that she might just eat you alive.

“Good girl, I knew you were a smart one the second I laid my eyes on you.” The term of praise, as proud as you are to have received it, only intensifies that feeling in your belly and for the first time this evening, you question if you’re actually capable of surviving a night with the vampire Countess.

Patting your cheek with her other hand and cocking her head amusedly, Wanda continues. “Although, you were foolish enough to have come here alone and approached me like this.”

Maybe she’s right…

“No one would know if I killed you right here and now. No one would even hear you scream before I sank my teeth in your neck.”

Or maybe, that’s exactly what you want from her.

In a heartbeat, you instantly regain all your confidence. You know her secret and you came here for a reason. It’s time to claim what you’re owed, what you came to this city searching for.

Hastily, you untie your coat and drop it to the floor, revealing your barely clothed body to her stunned eyes. A rush of excitement goes through your veins at the sight of her dilated pupils, a telling sign that she just might desire you as much as you desire her.

Placing your own hands atop the ones she still rests on your face, you confess, “I want to be yours.” She lifts her eyebrow in curiosity at your proposition. “You don’t need to feed on other people, or hunt when you’re desperate anymore… You can just feed on me.”

For the first time ever, you hear her laugh, throwing her head back with her imposing fangs on full display. A deep and maniacal sound that’s degrading and humiliating as you stand there before her exposed and yet, you decide you’d do anything to hear it again.

It takes a second or two for her to regain her composure and you think you spot tears in her eyes, only further reddening your blushing cheeks.

“You know,” she says in between huffed laughter. “I typically only drink animal blood, as I’m sure you’ve seen on occasion. It’s a lot more… convenient and certainly a lot less messy. But the real reason,” she confesses, whispering almost secretively as her ruby coloured irises stare into your blown out pupils, “is that blood from a human source is dangerously addictive. That’s why I only feed on humans on days like this when the moon’s pull is too strong. Because everyone I drink from ends up dead and somehow, I just know that if I drank yours… well I’d be addicted for eternity.”

But what if that’s exactly what you want?

Blindly reaching towards a nearby table, you grab what feels like a glass and smash it against the surface, successfully slicing your left palm and sending drops of blood rolling down your skin.

In the same heartbeat, Wanda instantly freezes, her enhanced sense of smell immediately picking up the intoxicating scent of your blood. Tightly closing her eyes and letting go of her hold on you, she takes two steps back from you, seemingly struggling to restrain herself.

Fearlessly, you take two steps towards her, crowding her space just as she crowded yours.

“Let go,” you tempt, lifting your bleeding hand in an attempt to flood her senses and lure her further into your trap. “Let me be yours,” you whisper teasingly into her ear.

In a second, her eyes burst open, now blazing scarlet and burning into you. Roughly, she wraps her hand around your throat and pushes you against the nearest wall, uncaring of how you wince at the strength with which she slams you.

Just as harshly, she finally kisses you, her icy lips meeting yours and moving against each other as one as she almost devours you in her eagerness. And just as eagerly, you let her, drowning in the rush of losing yourself in something so wrong that feels so right.

The cautiousness with which she treated you before has completely disappeared as she dangerously tightens her grip around your throat, claiming your lips over and over again.

In her lust-clouded haste, her sharp fangs faintly slice your bottom lip and you quickly start bleeding with a wince that’s promptly muffled by her soft lips. Her greedy tongue licks it all up and you’re blessed with her deep moans at the rich and teasing taste.

To your dismay, she pulls away and releases her grip on your throat. But when you look in her bloodshot eyes, pupils blown and glittering in the moonlight, you’re thrilled to see a complete lack of resistance, a surrender to the offer you’ve presented.

And yet, there’s a hidden question in them, if you’re really willing to cross this line with her. In the back of your mind, you wonder that perhaps you're the first person who’s ever shared this secret of hers, who's ever willingly given themselves to her.

You hope to be the only.

Without saying a word, you simply crane your awaiting neck towards her, offering the expanse of it to her on a golden platter.

“I’m yours,” you whisper into the night for only her to hear.

In the blink of an eye, she becomes a predator before you. Still trapped between her body and the wall, you watch in equal amounts of fear and lust as she bares her fangs and sinks them into your naked neck.

You scream in pain and tightly scrunch a hand in her hair until, almost like you're hearing yourself outside of your body, you realise that your screams have become moans, the pain in your neck abruptly replaced by pleasure racing through your bloodstream.

“Mine,” you hear her snarl in between your moans and you only barely manage to yell, “Yours”, back.

Wanda is equally disarmed as she buries her face in your neck. She drinks and drinks and drinks, and as predicted, loses herself in you. It’s a criminal understatement to say that your blood is the best she’s ever tasted in her centuries-long life and endless list of victims. It’s rich and thick and if you hadn’t already offered to become her pet for eternity, she would have stolen you away anyway.

She revels even more in the sounds of your very evident pleasure, which when mixed with her instant addiction to your taste leaves a tight sensation in her core.

As she continues feasting on you, she slots a knee between your open legs and tightly grips your waist in her hands, harshly thrusting you down on her leg and surely leaving bruises in her wake. Eagerly, you grind against her firm thigh, head lolling back and hitting the wall with a resounding thud.

Somehow, your unabashed moans get even louder as you feel your blood starting to drip across your chest. Distantly, you consider that maybe you should quieten yourself lest someone hear of your tryst, but that thought swiftly disappears when Wanda presses her knee against your core while pushing you down to grind against it and deepening her fangs in your neck.

She’s everywhere. Pressed against you, piercing you with her teeth, becoming one with you. Suddenly, the overwhelming sensations become too much and you come undone in her arms, climaxing unexpectedly from the equally consuming mix of pleasure and pain.

In a lust- and blood-drunk daze, Wanda takes little notice of your state and attempts to keep drinking every ounce of the red liquid left in your body. She feels you start to loosen your hold on her hair and slacken against her thigh though, so she reluctantly stops lest she loses her pet as quickly as she got her.

Regrettably, she pulls away from you but you’re glad she keeps her knee between your legs because you immediately slump against her from an exhaustive combination of the severe blood loss and intense climax.

Surprisingly tenderly, she captures you in her arms and holds you up against her and the wall. You take a second to regain your breath as your heart races to pump more blood through your veins.

“That was…” you trail off, dazed and half struggling to hold on to consciousness.

“Delicious,” she finishes for you.

You eventually manage to open your eyes and watch her sadly remove a hand from your waist to wipe your blood from her mouth with the pad of her thumb, serving to only spread it across her face even more.

The sight is more arousing than it should be and as you stare at her, you discover that with her porcelain moonlit skin, scarlet coloured eyes, snow white fangs, and mouth covered in your dark blood, she’s the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen.

In the haze of the afterglow, your gaze lowers to her bloody lips and you briefly wonder how you taste. Somehow reading your thoughts as she always does, she places a surprisingly soft kiss on your lips and you’re equally surprised by the taste of your blood on her lips. It’s different from what you expected, not as jarringly metallic as when you bite the inside of your cheek but rather smooth and rich like a well-aged wine.

As you deepen the kiss searching for more, she returns the eagerness by tracing the surface of your lips with her tongue, easily parting them and entering your mouth. Distracting you with the feel of your tongues swirling against each other, she sneakily reaches behind your back and unties the fragile bow tying your nightgown together.

Pulling away, she lets the sheer fabric fall in a heap to the floor and leaves you chasing her lips like a lovesick fool. You feel even more foolish when you look up and find her staring intensely at your entirely exposed body while she remains fully clothed, almost moving to wrap your arms around your bare chest in an attempt to hide yourself from her scrutiny.

Just as quickly though, she captures your wrists and traps them beside you against the wall. “Don’t hide from me. You’re mine now, pet,” she whispers in her criminally deep voice.

Not to mention her apparent assignment of a new title for you, a stark contrast from the formal way with which she has been regarding you until now. A fierce blush rises to your cheeks at her choice and when combined with the sound of her voice, you think you could come from the short sentence alone.

Softly and slowly with all the time in the world, or at least the few hours left before the sun awakes, she places delicate kisses across your shaking body. Her icy cold touch cools every inch of your burning skin that it contacts, along the curve of your jawline up to the space below your ear, down your neck and especially taking care to lick your puncture wounds clean before travelling across your chest and licking up any blood that previously escaped her.

Taking your left nipple in her awaiting mouth, she latches on and sucks greedily before switching to the right. You squirm and try to free your hands wanting to touch her, but her bruising grip around your wrists unrelenting keeps you trapped. If she notices you continue to painfully twist yourself in her grasp anyway in an attempt to amass more marks as proof of her ownership of you, she doesn’t utter a single word.

A second later, she withdraws from your body and sighs against your wet skin, which when coupled with her chilled touch and the cool winter night leaves you shuddering with goosebumps.

Stepping back from you entirely now, she reaches behind herself and undoes her own dress. When it falls to the floor, so does your jaw as you shamelessly stare at the pale expanse of her skin, almost completely unblemished and illuminated by the moonlight.

You carefully place your hands on the curves of her waist, hidden beneath her burgundy corset. For a brief moment, she lets you admire her body like an artist admires their muse before she gets impatient and turns around in your arms.

Pulling her hair to her front, she demands, “Won’t you lend me a hand, pet?”

Wordlessly and obediently, you unlace her corset while leaving delicate kisses behind her ear and along her neck. She buries her hand in your hair and you almost let out a moan from the way she tugs at it. Under your breath, you curse the corset for being so intricate as your shaking hands struggle against the detailed binds.

Luckily for you though, it finally becomes undone and drops to the floor with the rest of your clothes. With your hands returning to her waist again, now soft and bare, you turn her around to face you and almost collapse.

You’re not sure how it’s possible, but she continues to take your breath away. She’s more beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen in your lifelong travels. More than any of the marble Grecian sculptures or oil paintings of Aphrodite.

Just as she did, you take your time peppering kisses over her ivory and cool skin. You gently kiss every inch from right under her jawline to the dips of her collarbones and down along her chest to the mole of her left breast, from the curve of her shoulder down to the edge of her fingers and even lightly sucking your blood off her thumb.

Delicately, you devote yourself to kissing her perfect skin marked only by a few moles littered across her body, mapping them like constellations, and licking away any of your blood that stains the porcelain surface of her chin and neck.

Here and there, when you get to a particularly sensitive spot like the space under her jawline, she writhes in your arms and lets out a breathless gasp. You continue sucking on the same spot lightly, proudly drawing pleasure out of her as she did with you, but only lightly and not harsh enough to mark her flawless skin.

Internally, you think you could spend an eternity worshipping her body if she let you. You wouldn’t mind all the pain if you had the pleasure of being hers.

As you take your time exploring her body, her thin patience finally runs out and she roughly wraps your hair around her hand, pushing you down to exactly where she needs you.

“On your knees, pet,” she demands breathlessly and you instantly obey, falling to your knees with a thud and ignoring the bruising pain, proudly collecting more evidence of your tryst.

Diligently, you continue trailing your kisses down between the centre of her chest and her taut stomach until you reach her core, which you brazenly pass in favour of nibbling her inner thigh.

Roughly yanking your hair though, Wanda makes her annoyance known. “Oh, don’t be like that now, sweetheart. I thought it was clear who’s in charge here,” she bends down and sneers in your face.

“‘Mm sorry…” you frantically nod and apologise while keeping the enticing idea of disobeying and testing her patience in the back of your mind for another time. Right now, though, you desperately want to taste her.

Lifting her leg over your shoulder, she increases your accessibility or rather traps you and pushes your head back towards her centre.

“Be a good pet now won’t you, darling?”

You don’t need to be told twice, swiftly diving in between her thighs. You’re pleasantly delighted to feel how wet for you she already is, probably since the moment she sank her teeth in your neck.

Burying yourself against her core, you greedily part her folds with your tongue and lap up all her juices. Immediately drunk on her taste, you moan against her and the resounding vibrations apparently stimulate her even more as she whimpers above you and tightens her grip on your hair.

As you eagerly stroke your tongue against her pussy and brush your nose against her clit, you decide that between her legs must be the best place on Earth. And if anything, you so quickly become addicted to her sweet essence just as she was with your rich blood.

Almost crazed, you both want her everywhere and to be all over her, meticulously switching between placing kitty licks between her folds and latching onto her bulb.

Losing herself in you, Wanda somehow pushes the back of your head even deeper against her and bucks against your face. “Good girl… just like that,” she murmurs.

If your mouth wasn’t so preoccupied, you would’ve begged her to pull your hair harder.

Glancing up as you devour her, you realise that she truly is a fallen angel sent from the depths of hell to corrupt you. As you stare at her lust hazed eyes and domineering form stalked over you, you find yourself getting pleasure just from her pleasure alone.

You think that whether she suffocated you between her thighs or sucked out all your blood with her fangs in your neck, you’d be honoured to die by her hand.

With her moans getting louder and her body writhing above you, you catch on to her rapidly increasing need for more and raise your right hand to rub her clit with the pads of two fingers.

Catching her off guard, you swiftly thrust the same two fingers between her folds and earn a blissed out scream. You fit perfectly inside her as she clenches around you, sending a tightening sensation to your own core.

Latching onto her clit with your mouth again while your fingers slide in and out of her, you proudly smile against her at the tightening grip on your hair.

“Faster,” she manages to demand and you once again obey, pistoning your fingers in and out of her even faster and setting a ruthless rhythm. Soon after, your fingertips locate her g-spot so you curl the ends of your two fingers, hitting the spot with every thrust.

As you watch her, you notice that her hands are preoccupied with gripping the back of your head in pleasure and her bedpost in an attempt to stay standing.

With so much of her immaculate body shamefully left unattended, you reach your sliced hand back up her still cool body and cup her breast. As you massage the supple mound, the pain of the fresh cut stings your skin but you hear yourself whimper in time with her own moans.

You’re everywhere and the stimulation of your touch starts to make Wanda go crazy. Releasing her hold on your hair, she glides it down your back and scratches the skin below your shoulders with her claws in an attempt to pull you even closer.

Shuddering against her, you wince at the pain but proudly add the scratches to your long list of scars from tonight.

With her hand on your back, she feels you pathetically grind down against nothing and decides to take pity on you, placing her foot below your core. Finally getting some much needed friction, you rub yourself against her in a frenzy and practically ride her foot.

In a daze, she peers down at you and is entranced by the sight of you on your knees for her, looking up obediently at her with doe-like eyes, your face covered in her juices and skin covered in bite marks and hickeys she placed haphazardly, all while servicing her every demand and devoting yourself to her every need.

Unable to hold herself back anymore, she climaxes. Feeling her clench around your fingers and hearing her scream, you quickly follow and come against her foot. Bewitched, you see her arch her back in satisfaction and let her ride out her high against your face.

Once she calms down, you greedily lick up all her cum and clean up her centre just as you did with your blood on her skin. When your mission is complete and she pushes you away, overstimulated by your persistent touch, you stare into her eyes as you slide the same two fingers that were just inside her mere second ago into your own mouth, sucking them clean and taking care to not leave even a single drop.

If it were possible, her already blown out pupils dilate even more as she watches the show you put on for her. Pulling you up with a strength that’s probably owed to her inhumane cells, she tugs you into a kiss once again, tasting her essence on your tongue just as you did with your blood on hers.

Fitting your waist in her hands again, she hastily throws you on her bed before straddling your hips and pressing you against the mattress. She wastes no time and leans down to reclaim your lips, carelessly letting her fangs nick your lips again.

In the corner of your sleepy eyes, you see the glowing moonlight illuminate the stars in the night sky outside, the sun still a lifetime away. For this next little while, all that matters is the cool feel of her touch against your scorched skin and the pleasure of the pain she brings.

For under the full moon, you are completely and irrevocably hers; a vampire’s pet for better or worse.

#for my vampire!wanda truthers #my first reader fic my first wanda fic my first smut fic my precious baby #feedback is much appreciated esp on the smut T-T #if you guys enjoy this i have a pt 2 in mind that gets real freaky….#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff imagine #fem reader #vampire wanda #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #scarlet witch

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zionistgirlie · 2 days ago

Note

Also, you need to be especially stupid not to understand that the call to "free" the entirety of "Palestine" (so essentially making it another place like Gaza or Judea and Samaria), and letting people like Hamas, the Islamic Jihad, The Muslim Brotherhood, or even "just" the PLO, which all these organisations have set as their goal to destroy all the Jews living between the river and the sea—and we saw what happens when Hamas and Islamic Jihad meet the Jews (they invented a new sort of crime against humanity called kinocide)— rule (find me one, one ruling "Palestinian" organisation who's denouncing all sorts of anti-jewish terrorism), you need to be either super naive or an idiot to think it doesn't mean the genocide of all Jews living in the Land of Israel.

The Arab grievances with Jews living between the river and the sea aren't, and were never, the fact they govern themselves. It was never the (made up) "occupation" or "oppression"; it was the fact Jews live here. Stat.

The Arabs have been offered partition plans several times that would "liberate" "Palestine," and I must mention here that "Palestine" has never been a free, arab country. From the moment its name was changed from Judea to Syria Palaestina after the Bar Kokhba revolt, and until the Jewish immigration to their land and the establishment of the State of Israel, "Palestine" has always been under occupation. Roman, Byzantine, Muslim (hey! This is roughly where some of the Arabs who call themselves Palestinians came to this part of the world), Crusader, Ottoman (there was also an immigration of Arabs who call themselves Palestinians to this area), and then British (even here there was an immigration of Arabs {"the non-Jewish population rose by 588,000. In fact, the permanent Arab population increased 120 percent between 1922 and 1947 to more than 1.3 million. This rapid growth was a result of several factors. One was immigration from neighbouring states – constituting 37 per cent of the total immigration to pre-state Israel – by Arabs who wanted to take advantage of the higher standard of living the Jews had made possible"} who today call themselves natives of Palestine here).

The fact that the Arabs have never accepted any partition plan offered to them, focusing instead on trying to destroy Israel (is there any doubt what will happen to the Jews if the Arabs destroy Israel?), should be enough to understand what their goals are and what really bothers them. But if we still find it difficult to understand that organizations that focus on destroying the Jewish state while waging capricious terrorism primarily against Jewish citizens will not simply let Jews live here in peace if "Palestine" is indeed "liberated," why don't we ask them?

Here is a video made for exactly this purpose just five months ago, in which "Palestinians" are asked what will happen to the Jews when "Palestine" is liberated. The answers will surprise you… If you are stupid.

youtube

Wait why is "from the river to the sea" a genocidal chant??

Simply put, it's being chanted by Hamas supporters, who have made it abundantly clear that they intend to control and ethnically cleanse by means of mass murder the entire region between "the river and the sea".

And the version "From the River to the Sea, Palestine will be free" is the English translation. In the original Arabic... well...

There are two versions:

min il-ṃayye la-l-ṃayye / Falasṭīn ʿarabiyye/من المية للمية / فلسطين عربية,

"from the water to the water / Palestine is Arab"

Which, well, doesn't have much room for non-Arabs, now does it?

And the version

min il-ṃayye la-l-ṃayye / Falasṭīn islāmiyye من المية للمية / فلسطين إسلامية,

"from the water to the water / Palestine is Islamic"

Well, that doesn't leave any room for Jews, now does it?

But yeah, given that the people chanting the slogan in English are doing so in explicit support of Hamas--which has said that they will continue to engage in 7/10-style attacks until they kill all of the Jews, which is not an exaggeration on my part--there is no way to take that statement as anything other than an endorsement of Jewish genocide or ethnic cleansing.

#israel #jewblr #jewish #antisemitism #hamas is isis #fuck hamas #palestinian antisemetism #read a history book #dummy

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northopalshore · 19 hours ago

Text

Union persona chart

ପ observations iii ଓ

This is a collection of aspects I've observed in the Union (1585) persona chart based on people I've met in real life & a few celebrities. Result may vary depending on the sign, house and degree each aspect is in but this post still counts as a base for understanding the aspects listed below.

♡ Union persona chart Masterlist | Masterlist

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☕ Mercury trine Saturn you'll think that your partner is someone mature who is mature and emotionally stable.

☕Mercury conjunct Boda (1487) you'll think that your partner is marriage material & may plan on marrying them from the get go

☕Juno in °22 degree meeting your significant other will change your life drastically, I'd like to call this the Cinderella placement!

☕7th house ruler in the 12th house almost always means either a long-distance relationship, private relationship or secret relationship (or all three!)

☕ Juno in the 7th & 10th house means you're going to meet through some sort of work either theirs or yours

☕ 7th house ruler in the 2nd house or 8th house you'll meet them through a money or service related venture (your spouse is likely the one providing the service)

☕ Venus square Saturn when you meet, you may think that this isn't the best time to start a relationship or be in love. You might've refrained from being in any relationships as well up to this point. It's literally breaking the "relationship fast" you have.

Sun conjunct Part of Fortune you may meet them while getting a promotion, or a new project/role.

☕ Sun conjunct Uranus you will not expect to meet someone like them or someone of their status. This is a star-crossed lovers aspect. They may be a boost to your current status as well. (I think Lisa has this in her Union persona chart)

☕ Moon conjunct North Node you may feel like meeting them was a part of destiny especially due to the circumstances of your meeting.

☕ Mars trine Jupiter when you first meet, it's very likely that you'll be seeing them quite often /almost everyday in person, whether through work, school or a shared project. You will be together, or at least see each other quite often.

☕ Mercury trine Chiron talking to them will be very healing to you, you could talk very often and openly, sharing your trauma and past experiences. You'll find that you may share a lot of similarities in that area.

☕ Venus conjunct Juno you may think of them as your ideal partner or idealise them a lot especially when first getting to know each other (dating).

☕ Sun square Mars/Saturn you may feel rather restrained around them, or may not be able to ease up much around them because of nervousness, or timidity. You may act more "mature" around them at first or less crazy than usual (lol).

☕ Jupiter conjunct Chiron being around them may trigger a lot of insecurities within you, perhaps you may feel "lesser" than them in some way.

☕ Pluto conjunct Starr (4150)

depending on the house it's in, being with them may push you to stardom or you may gain money/ popularity. It's not always favorable to see however; you may be known for a tumultuous love life as well depending on other placements/factors. (Priscilla Presley has this placement in the 2nd house. )

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☕ Neptune square North/South Node they will come as a surprise to you, they are likely different from the type of person you expect to meet or different from the people you used to date

☕ Venus trine Neptune romance with them will make you feel giddy, and a part of you may feel like it's too good to be true

☕ Jupiter in the 12th house you may travel to them a lot or travel just to see them often, even after dating

☕ North Node conjunct Midheaven (MC)

being with them will change your reputation, whether in your career, public or both. You might feel like they give you direction as well. A new door; a new life.

☕ Moon conjunct Juno you will feel like they are your perfect match, your soulmate. " Finally, someone gets me."

☕ Chiron conjunct ascendant

you may think it's a risky move to be with them, or being with them may hurt your reputation in a way.

☕ Sun conjunct Boda

meeting them may make you think of marriage or long-term commitment. ( sniper sniper sniper sniper, wifey wifey wifey wifey)

☕ Moon square Mercury you might not share a lot of your true feelings with them or might hold your tongue a lot at first ( either because of trust issues or caution). You may also find it difficult to see each other on the same level and get offended easily (both sides).

☕ Venus opposite Pluto they will change your mind about love when you meet them or seem like a knight in shining armor amongst disappointments and heartbreaks

☕ Sun trine Moon there is an immediate compatibility, also like you've met before or seem like childhood friends (even though you've never met)

☕ Sun conjunct Venus love at first sight!

☕ Sun conjunct Jupiter in the 3rd house you will enjoy long conversations when you meet your future spouse, you feel like there is much to talk about together & have a lot in common. You may also be online a lot when you meet them.

☕ Sun conjunct Mercury you may make the first move when you feet them i.e start the conversation

☕ Lilith trine Uranus your relationship will help push you be more authentic towards yourself and others, you feel seen on a very personal level (respect s your individuality).

☕ Sun conjunct Jupiter ( in the 11th house) you might be gaining popularity when your first meet them or meeting them will cause a boost in your popularity. In the 11th house, it might be related to your online presence or reputation.

☕ Mercury opposite Mars you will be very hesitant to make any moves towards your person, or you might not think that they would strike up the first conversation (did not expect).

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*

Thanks for reading ♡

@northopalshore

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hannieoftheyear · 11 hours ago

Text

love personified (k.mg)

walking back home from your breakup, just hours before valentine's day is finally over, you encounter a pretty stranger who seems to know everything you want

🏹 pairing: cupid!mingyu x f!reader

🏹 w.c: 5,6k

🏹 genre: supernatural au, smut, fluff, angst. MDNI.

🏹 warnings: mingyu's a bit of a stalker, has superpowers, is very strong and he also flies (important for later), mention of a break up and talks about the future | smut warnings: flying sex? like in the sky... yeah, dirty talk, praise, fingering (f. rec), unprotected sex (don't be stupid like them).

🏹 note: i first intended to make this more fluffy but something took over me and added plot and then the smut and the angst and here we are

🏹 note 2: the beginning was HEAVILY inspired by damon and elena's first meeting in the vampire diaries, also stole some dialogue from the scene heh.

🏹 last note i swear: I tried to make a banner, and idk how to feel about it... but I wanted something new! I'll see if I keep them for the future

dividers used: candy hearts, heartbeat

hope you like this! can't wait to read your thoughts <3

February is always the hardest, most chaotic month to work as cupid. During the rest of the year, Mingyu feels like he has all the time in the world to find someone’s perfect match, to set up meet-cutes and “coincidences” for people to realize their feelings. But as the clock ticks and January 31st becomes February 1st, people’s need to find the perfect Valentine’s Day date intensifies, and they start looking for dates themselves instead of letting him do his job.

Mingyu has to work overtime to make sure every person he’s singled out doesn’t mess up. He doesn’t have time for couples, even if he made the match or not, so he usually deals with their problems once the holiday is over.

That’s why he didn’t notice you’d been fighting with your boyfriend all day.

Mingyu was aware of you. You’ve been together with your boyfriend long before he came to your town, so you haven’t really needed his services. But as he worked hard to find your friends’ perfect matches, he took notice of you. Every time someone close to you came to you for advice, what you’d tell them was always what Mingyu was thinking. But he couldn’t interfere with your relationship, especially as you seemed to not have any problems.

Just two hours before February 14th is finally over, after a very tiring, rushed day to make sure every person he was working with had the best day possible, Mingyu decides to fly around town in case anyone else needs last minute help.

He’s the best at what he does. He follows the rules and meets his goals with outstanding results. On the days when he gets the best results, he allows himself to go find you and just see you being there.

Tonight, he didn't forget about you, but he didn’t have time to catch up with your life all day. So, when he finds you walking on an empty road alone, with your phone in your hand, sobbing quietly, he can’t resist it.

Mingyu doesn’t usually present in his human form, but this late at night, on a dark empty road far from the lights of the town, there’s no danger. Only you. And it's easy to make sure no one remembers him when it's only one person.

“Is everything okay?” You’d turned your head to see if any cars were driving by, so Mingyu takes you by surprise, standing a few feet ahead.

“Fuck! Where did you come from?” You scream as you take a step back away from him.

You squint as you analyze Mingyu up and down, noting you’ve never seen him before. And you should be scared. You would be if he didn’t seem so... nice? A wave of comfort rushes past you, but you still keep your distance, in case your intuition's failing you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Mingyu smiles warmly as he finally heard your voice directed to him after so long. “I’m Mingyu.”

“And I don’t mean to be rude, Mingyu... but it’s kinda creepy that you're out here in the middle of nowhere.” Your eyebrows frown, but your voice stays soft, your body relaxing after the initial scare.

“You’re one to talk. You’re out here alone, too.” Mingyu can’t resist the urge to tease you, smirking as you seem to get interested in the interaction.

“It’s my town. Nothing bad ever happens here.” You avoid telling him the reason you’re there at first, but as your instincts keep telling you to not be afraid, you decide that telling a seemingly friendly stranger your problems might not be that bad. “I broke up with my boyfriend.”

“Why? May I ask?” Mingyu inquires, hands in the air in response to your questioning gaze. “And today of all days.”

“The future.” You sigh, weirdly trusting him with more. “He had everything figured out, his whole life with me, and I...”

“And you don’t want it?” Mingyu can’t help but ask. It’s his nature after all.

“I… don’t know what I want.” Your arms cross in front of your chest, confused by Mingyu’s interest in you, but curious enough to keep talking to him.

“That can’t be true.” Mingyu lifts one eyebrow, not teasing, but rather thinking he can actually help you for once. “You want what everybody wants.”

“Huh... a mysterious stranger who has all the answers.” You provoke, not believing someone you’ve never seen in your small town could hold the answer to a problem that has been tormenting you for weeks.

Mingyu chuckles in response, your teasing behavior making you more interesting in his eyes. He has seen you in circumstances where you always reacted in the same way, a shallow character of you formed in his head. And now, he can see you with other eyes. A new layer to you he can explore.

He's watched people at their most vulnerable, created an atmosphere for them where they can be themselves so he can find someone for them. The way you challenge him, but at the same time trust him, is harboring thoughts in his mind he shouldn’t have.

“Let’s just say helping people is what I do. I’ve learned a few things over time.” Being as vague as he can, Mingyu hopes that’s enough for you to come close to him and let him tell you what he thinks you need.

“So, Mingyu, tell me. What is it that I want?” You seem like you fell for it, but is it a game to you? You want to see how far this pretty stranger can take it. Mingyu, on the other hand, might just break the single rule he's followed his entire life.

“You want a love that consumes you. You don’t want someone safe. You want passion and adventure. Even a little danger.”

Whatever you were expecting Mingyu to tell you, it wasn’t anything close to what just came out of his mouth. But he was... right?

Previously to your fight with your now ex-boyfriend, you never thought about what you wanted, about your future. You cared about living in the present. Mingyu liked that about you. It gave you a certain perspective of life other people lacked, and it’s what made you such a seeked out advice giver amongst your friends. And your boyfriend, he was good, safe, a constant in your life. There wasn’t anything particularly wrong about him, you just stopped feeling like you used to, he stopped being what you needed.

“You seem to know so much about love.” You can only reply, and he smiles. A smile that’s just as warm as it’s proud.

“I live for love. It’s what I do.” Deep within the both of you, there’s an understanding, a growing trust. Mingyu waits for your confirmation, on the brink of deciding to have one selfish night.

Since the dawn of time, the first warning everyone gets as children is to not trust strangers, and you’ve followed that advice every day of your life. But your gut urges you to trust the kind looking man who seems to know exactly what you want. An impulse, prompting you to give in, just for one night, to make you forget about the reason you were alone on the road in the first place.

“Would you show me?” Is all Mingyu needed to hear to take a step closer in your direction.

“We have to do something about your things first.” You had already forgotten about the tiny bag you chose to wear, only because you were supposed to be on a date, hanging loosely from your shoulder.

“What are you planning to do?” You don’t stop Mingyu as he grabs your bag and walks to the side of the road, hiding it behind one of the big trees.

“I was thinking of starting with the adventure part.” When he doesn’t return to your place on the empty road, you follow him to where he stands, watching your every move carefully.

“I’m fine with that.” The spot where you purposely decide to stand is dangerously close to him, his personal space blending with yours.

“Promise me you won’t get scared. I got you.” Now barely centimeters away from you, Mingyu has to tilt his head down to be able to look at you. You nod, and your eyes show no sign of fear as he places both his hands on your waist to hold you. “Hold tight.”

A bit reluctant, but still trusting, you wrap both of your arms around his neck with a questioning look. Mingyu smirks lightly but gives you no time to realize what it causes in you because you stop feeling the ground beneath your feet.

You should be afraid. A man you just met can fly and is lifting you up in the air with him, with no protection whatsoever. But his hands around you feel tight and secure, and you trust he won't let you fall.

“How do I not feel heavy? Like, I'm flying too, and it's not just holding me.” You ask, too curious about his mystery powers.

“You know when a piece of metal touches a magnet, it gains its magnetism too? It's something similar. As long as a part of you is in contact with me, you'll fly too.”

“And you don't have wings?”

Mingyu loves the way your brain works, and he can’t help but chuckle at your genuine curiosity. “You think I should be a baby with tiny wings and a heart bow and arrow?”

“Don’t be mean!” You wish you could hit him lightly in the shoulder, but that would mean you'd have to retrieve your hand from your hold momentarily.

The adrenaline rushes quickly through your body, seeing how the night sky gets closer and the city below you grows far.

“The view’s so pretty.” You say after a moment of silence, admiring the town lights from a distance.

“Really pretty.” Mingyu replies, but his head hasn’t turned, eyes fixed on your face analyzing your every feature.

When you hear his voice so close to you, his warm breath reaching your skin despite the wind, you turn your head back to him and find his eyes in you. “You’re not looking.” The words mix with giggles.

“I’ve gotten used to it.” Mingyu’s gaze dips to your smiling lips for just a second. “I much rather look at other beautiful things.”

Warmth spreads from your stomach up to your cheeks. “You’re good at this.” Avoiding his eyes by entertaining yourself with the view doesn’t work very well.

“At what?” Mingyu teases, loving the way your cheeks pink up because of him.

“You’re very charming.” If Mingyu decided to tilt his head a little closer, you’re sure your heart would burst out from your chest.

“I know what people like. It’s one of the perks of doing my job.” The cocky tone only strengthens his influence over you.

“And what would that be?” Already surrendered to whatever he has in store for you, you instigate him further.

“I know what people want to hear, what they want to feel, how they like to be cared for and touched.” Mingyu’s hand tucks a rebel strand of hair behind your ear and takes the chance to brush his fingers down your neck and arm, managing to hold you steady with only one arm.

“Touched, huh?” If he knows what you want, then he must be stalling giving you exactly that.

“It’s really important information to accurately do my job." The courage gained allows you to lose your grip around his neck to let one of your hands play with Mingyu’s hair, and your moves just broaden the smirk that hasn't worn off him.

“You know, you said you'd show me the things I want, but so far, we've only levitated from our original spot.” It was easy for you to trust, and frankly, ,, and there’s no doubt he has more knowledge than the average person. But his teasing grips and touches are doing nothing more than getting you in the mood for something that there’s no guarantee is going to happen. “You’re making me doubt you.”

“I don’t know how much you want me to show you.” Mingyu might have a sense for love and lust, but he’s no mind reader. As much as he wants to believe the fire he sees behind your eyes as your hands take their time to feel the warm skin behind his neck is because you want him just as much as he does, he can’t do anything unless you explicitly want to as well.

“I want more.” You want to feel everything that you felt was missing before, and in Mingyu’s hands, you just know he’ll make sure you do.

“More?” Mingyu’s last will to resist you, last chance to listen to the tiny voice in his mind that’s telling him that this is a bad idea.

But, how bad can it be if his whole body’s telling him to give you what you want? To give in to his desires for once?

“Make me feel what you know I want. Touch me like you think I'd like to be touched.”

How wrong can it be if you're in his arms asking him for it, flying on the sky with only your trust in him to guarantee you’ll be safe, with your oh so pretty doe eyes piercing through the thin wall shielding his self control.

“I will, but you can’t remember that you met me.” It pains Mingyu to say it out loud, but he can’t hide the reality from you. “I have to erase me from your memory.”

“Why?” You knew it was too good to be true. “I won’t tell anyone.” In different circumstances, you'd be embarrassed to sound as needy as you just did. But there's no witness in the quietness of the sky.

“I’m not supposed to do this,” Mingyu sighs, “I’m not supposed to get personally involved with a human.” When he says it out loud, it makes sense. But when he connects his eyes with you again, it doesn’t make sense to him that you’re off limits, that he has to resist you. How could he?

“And I’m not supposed to trust a stranger that comes up to me in the middle of the night and offers to fly me around the city.” A small smile fights to appear on Mingyu’s otherwise worried expression. “But okay, I’ll let you mess with my memories. At least promise me you’ll give me the best night of my life.”

“I promise you.” Mingyu’s going to give you whatever you ask for. After all, it’s his job to cater to people’s desires.

With his hands back on your waist, as tight and secure as they can, Mingyu elevates the both of you higher, hiding your bodies behind the few dense clouds, so no stray stargazing human can be testimony. He waits for you to take in the view, the new ambiance in which he’ll make you yours for the night.

Waiting might be part of his plan, making you crave his touch until you beg for it. “So, how would you start? Besides flying me to where no one can see us.” You try to taunt him, but as you finish verbalizing your thoughts, you feel the warmth of his body all around you.

“First, I'd touch you.” His hands sneak below your shirt. The pads of his fingers barely graze your skin as they travel up your chest. “Find that spot that paints the whole of you with goosebumps.” Easily, but not surprisingly, Mingyu takes the time to feel every part of your torso, and when you gasp lightly as he reaches the small of your back, just above where the fabric of the skirt you luckily decided to wear begins, he knows he found it.

“And then?” Breathless, your eyes refuse to leave his, entranced by the glimmer of lust behind them.

“I'd press you against me.” What he says, he does, wasting no time. “Kiss your neck right where I can feel your pulse.” With his lips on the sensitive skin of your neck, Mingyu feels your pulse completely accelerated, and he can’t help but smirk against you. “How am I doing?”

“It's alright.” He aims to remove his head from the crook of your neck, but your hand keeps him there, and he chuckles right on your skin. “Don’t you dare stop.”

“You like being pressed up against me?” Your hands tighten around Mingyu’s collar as he keeps kissing up your neck, and you hum at his words. “There’s other things I could be doing.”

A sudden cold wind reminds you of where you are, and when Mingyu senses the sudden scare inside you, he continues with his plan, helping you forget. He sneaks one of his hands below your pretty skirt and just lightly touches your covered mound. You wish you could tear off his clothes, throw them in the air to nowhere so you could feel his hot skin against yours, just how he likes to feel yours.

“Shit.” You barely get the curse out as Mingyu licks his way up your neck.

“Do you want me to touch you?” His voice sounds deeper, with a tint of something you can’t quite decipher exciting you for what’s next.

“Yes!” You don’t mind sounding desperate if it gets you what you want, but instead, he stops moving and only presses his fingers against your core.

“Say it.” The way your panties grow wetter at his demand has Mingyu salivating. “Say you want my fingers inside you.”

“I thought you knew what I wanted.” A lousy attempt at provoking him, as Mingyu's already ten steps ahead of you.

“You love getting told what to do. So, say it.” His face is a mere inch away from your face, with his breath tickling over your parted lips, but he does nothing to change it, challenging you.

“I want your fingers inside of me.” You state, with your eyes connected to his teasing ones, your hand drifting down to find his and sliding in under your panties for once. “Now.”

“Hmm, that's what I wanted to hear.”

His shoulders become your next victim. You grip them like your life depends on it –it does, your fingers dig on his toned muscles as his toy with your cunt, spreading your lips apart and circling your clit as if you're not dripping down into the clouds below already.

You use the strong hold on his firm body to grind against his hand, searching for the friction he's refusing to give you. His nod of approval encourages you further, and in no time, you've coated the whole of his hand with your juices.

When two of his fingers slip into your core at once, curling them to give you every sensation at once, your walls welcome the girth of his fingers, pushing a surprised moan out of you.

Mingyu moves them in and out of you steadily, letting you feel every stretch and every spot the tips of his fingers reach and touch. Gasps and moans are all the sounds you can produce, watching his face closely as he looks down to where he buries his hand into you.

But he’s going too slow, and your hips take charge, riding his hand to match his thrusts so he can reach deeper. Mingyu fails to fight back a moan, as if he’s enjoying it more than you, and you speed up in search for more.

“Stop.” Mingyu’s other hand tilts your chin up so he can look you in the eyes.

“W-Why?” Despite the question, you obey his demand even if your insides pulse around his fingers, begging either of you to move.

“Slow down, take the time to feel everything. It’ll feel better.”

Arguing with him is out of the question, so when he stiffens his hand under you, preparing it for you to follow his instructions, you do so.

“Like this?” You sway your hips forward slowly, feeling his fingers open you up while Mingyu relishes in the way your gummy walls embrace him with so much need.

“That’s right, baby.” Deeper than anyone has ever reached with a few fingers, Mingyu knows exactly when to curl his to have you clamping around him, your body trembling against him but still doing what he told you to. “You're doing so well.”

Everything he says and does sends you closer and closer to the edge, fighting back moans and screams that scratch their way out of you, but you don’t want it to be over, so you delay the orgasm as much as possible.

As if he was a mind reader, Mingyu realizes your intentions and takes charge once again, plunging his fingers into you with the exact force and precision that causes a new wave of arousal to drip into his hand.

“Don’t fight it. Let go.”

“But– I don’t– fuck!” It’s like your body only follows his command, the white light shining from the stars getting brighter and brighter until it’s all you can see, and you're cumming on his fingers in no time.

Your chest heaves as if you just ran a marathon, catching your breath after he removes his digits from you and leaves you empty.

“Okay, I believe you now.” Your cold damp underwear sticks to your core uncomfortably when you wrap your legs around him, surprised you hadn’t before, and you welcome the feel of his hard length against you.

“Now?” Mingyu chokes in the middle of his chuckle at the contact but doesn’t do anything to get your tempting body away.

“Yeah, but partially.” It’s obvious you still want more, but Mingyu feels he’s done. He made you feel good like you asked and like he wanted. He wouldn’t dare to push things further without your confirmation. “You could give me a little more proof.”

“I– I shouldn’t, I mean, you don’t owe me anything. We don’t have to if–”

“I want it,” you quickly interrupt his ramble, “I need you.” Even through the layers of fabric and the rush of wind prickling at your skin, the twitch of his hard reaches your core. “I know you want it too.”

“You’re a bad influence.” Mingyu sighs, throwing his head back with a smirk.

“You’re the one who approached me claiming to have magic powers that tell you exactly how to make me cum! Now deal with the consequences of your actions!”

“I did not say that.” He very clearly implied it, but he likes the way your face quirks when he plays your little game.

“Hmm, but I think you did.” His hands holding you don’t dare travel down even for a tease. “Do I have to beg? Cause I will.” Your semi-true joke draws an unexpected laugh out of him, and you can only bat your eyelashes at him, waiting for a response.

You’re still sensitive from the earth-shattering orgasm at his hand, and your whole body twitches as you grind lightly against him with a purpose, earning a delicious low groan and a tighter grip in his arms.

“I don’t have any protection.” His voice hitches at your every move, pressing against him with no care in the world. “I wasn’t exactly planning this.”

“I had a boyfriend for over two years, Mingyu… I’m on the pill.” His mention doesn't set either of you back. “If we both want to, then what's the issue?”

Yeah, what’s the issue? That's exactly what Mingyu wonders as he flawlessly unzips his pants the perfect amount to let his hard spring out of his fabric prison. That's what he wonders when your hand wraps around him, taking in his girth before moving up and down slowly. That question is barely a murmur in the wind as you place the tip of his cock at your entrance, locking eyes with him as you sink on him.

Your warm walls mold to his shape, every new inch he reaches wrapping around him as if to keep him there forever. How could he stay away from you?

Instead of waiting to adjust to him, you do your best to start a pace of shallow thrusts. Mingyu's hands gripping you help you find a rhythm, your hips colliding when they meet.

The sighs leaving his parted lips call to you, begging you to connect them. It’s the only thing you haven’t done, and they’re so close, so tempting, only one hand on his neck and a little push, and they’d be on yours. But he stiffens at your touch, and you know he’s resisting.

“Please.” You whisper, but you don’t move further whilst he’s deciding.

It takes Mingyu about two seconds to comply. And you’re so close. It’s barely a change.

The sweetness of his kiss melts you into him, unsurprisingly tender but shockingly full of a kind of lust that he wasn’t showing before, one that only translates in the way he resumes his thrusts inside you in sync with his lips gliding over yours.

A moan escapes you into his mouth as he finds the deepest parts of you, hitting every spot inside you as easily as taking a breath. His grip on your ass gets tighter the louder your sounds become, his eager kiss not drowning them anymore.

Mingyu stimulates every single one of your senses, rendering you incapable of focusing on solely one. His hands traveling everywhere on your body wishing he could feel your bare skin, his sweet scent mixing with the filthiness of your affair, the heated sounds he allows to escape reaching your ears, compelling your walls to contract around him, your tongues molding together in an intent to feel even more of him. He’s everywhere, and you don’t want it to ever stop.

It’s the stutter of his hips that makes everything around you blurry. His hand drifts between your hot bodies, digits circling your clit deliberately and you stop the kiss to gasp in his mouth. Every nerve on your body works towards the goal, the one Mingyu knew precisely how to get you there at light speed.

You don’t fight it this time. Resisting it would mean delaying the strong desire to feel him cum inside you.

Hiding your face on the crook of his neck, your arms wrap around Mingyu’s shoulders as you grind hard against him in the quest to trigger his orgasm along with yours. Something tells you he’s close, maybe the way he embraces you closer to him, if that’s even possible, or how his breathing becomes more rushed against your ear.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. A lightning bolt, your second orgasm strikes over you unforeseeably hard, so much so that it sets Mingyu’s off just after.

Heavy breathing is all there is to hear for a few seconds, both of you trying to get your bodies back to normal after he slips out of you.

“I definitely believe you now.” As Mingyu's bringing you down in between the trees where you left your bag earlier, you chuckle as you joke to fill the calm silence.

“That's good to hear.” He sounds almost… sad?

Mingyu doesn't know what to do now. As soon as you decide you're done with him, he's going to have to erase every memory of him from your mind, and that's killing him inside.

“Can I ask you something?” But, instead of just grabbing your things and leaving, you sit on the damp grass, patting the spot beside you signaling him to sit down too.

“Whatever you want.” He smiles as he sits by your side, body still as warm as when he hugged you to lift you up in the air, but avoids your eyes doing so.

“Do you investigate people to know what they like?” How did he know exactly what you liked was your real question, and maybe Mingyu got that, but he doesn't show it.

He chuckles, thinking of a way to make what he does more understandable. “Not like that. I can't really explain it, but I just know. When I find someone and see them day to day, it's like I can feel it.”

“So, did you know me? Before tonight?” From your perspective, it can't be a coincidence that he happened to run into you minutes after you broke up with your boyfriend. He must've known. He must've come down to help you.

“Yes,” hesitant, he answers, “I watched over you from time to time.” He can't lie to you. Not because an hour from now, you won't remember this conversation, but because he feels he can trust you.

“Did you pair me together with…”

“Someone before me did.” Mingyu chuckles, remembering the first time he saw you.

You were next in line at the coffee shop. He was following the cashier that day, seeing how he was during an ordinary day and trying to gain a sense of his likes and dislikes. When your time to pay came, he saw it, a special light coming from that man's eyes. He liked you. And Mingyu understood him immediately.

The cash slipped out of your hand and fell onto the ground, and you smiled at him as you said sorry and told him to keep the change. But then, Mingyu saw your order, two coffees instead of one. And then he saw you stroll to the table where he instantly knew your boyfriend was the one waiting for you.

“And are you going to find me someone else?”

The world stops, freezing at your words. Mingyu hadn’t realized what it meant for a couple to break up under his watch. He didn't put you together, but it was his job to mend your hearts by sending a new someone your way. He'll have to watch over you for real this time, see you living your life day to day, without remembering him.

“I should… it’s my job.” He repeats like a mantra in his head. It's his job.

“Right, your job.” Disappointed, you stare at him, waiting for the tiniest sign of regret. “But do you want to?”

“I– it's my duty.” It's his job. It's his job. It's his job. It's his job.

“If it wasn’t, would you?”

If it wasn't, he wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. Instead of parading around his gift for you to be impressed, he would've won you over the right way, taking you out on dates and making you blush with trashy pick-up lines. He would've met your friends and let them interrogate him as he took your hand under the table.

But that's just a fantasy. And he can't move on with life thinking of all the what ifs.

His silence is all you need to know the answer.

“I get it.” You simply reply as you look up to the sky.

Mingyu wants to apologize. He wants to tell you that it will be hell for him to see you every day and try to find someone who isn't him for you. But he can't.

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but the led lights of a car rushing past the road take him back to reality. To where he shouldn’t be involved with a human.

“You should go. It’s late, I’m sure people must be looking for you.” Mingyu reminds you that tonight was only a moment out of the ordinary.

But you're not ready to leave, to give up your memories of him.

How can one night impact your life this much? You didn’t know Mingyu until a few hours ago, you had a good life, no problems except that one. And now, you can’t even fathom living a life in which you don’t know who he is. A life in which you don’t know there’s someone out there that looks after you and knows you better than anyone else.

Mingyu sees your doubt and hesitates to get close to you, now that you have stood up and walked away from him. But he takes a step in your direction, standing in front of you and placing his hands on the side of your face, forcing you to look at him.

“I don’t want to forget tonight.” Your watery eyes shine under the moonlight, a sight Mingyu will never be able to forget. “I don’t want to forget you.”

“I’m sorry.” He really is. “I can’t risk them finding out.”

“Please, I won’t tell anyone.” A single teardrop drifts down your cheek, dampening Mingyu’s thumb as he wipes it off, so gently he might be afraid of hurting you even more. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I- I don’t know.” He shouldn’t be so easily swayed by you.

“It’s just me. No one else is going to know. No one will find out.”

It's just me. Mingyu's head doesn't stop repeating those words. It's just you. You, who shared your troubles with him even if he was a stranger. You, who trusted him enough to be held in his arms in the air. You, who he knows, would never break a promise.

Mingyu never breaks the rules of his job. But, on the longest night of his life, he chose to be selfish for once. And he didn’t regret one single moment.

this might be one of the worst ending i ever wrote i'm sorry

#mingyu au #kvanity #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen au #svt au #mingyu imagine #mingyu x reader #ema.works

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deadhands69 · 1 day ago

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Cute When You Stutter

loser!Shigaraki x gn/afab Reader

prev ◁ part 3 ▷ next

[series masterlist]

The photos you posted with Shigaraki were pretty popular among your friends, most of whom were absolutely surprised at the news of you having a boyfriend (especially the people who recognized him from the news.) Among the notifications you received, one message from an old friend stands out:

you’re bringing him to my party tonight, right?

Honestly, you forgot about the party until now. It’s too late to bail though, you've said you'd be there multiple times by now.

Back to your screen, there are already five likes on the comment and a handful of responses all indicating they want to meet your new guy.

I don’t know, you respond, he’s probably busy

Thinking that will end the conversation, you go about your day.

Checking your phone a few hours later, you find that your comment only sparked more discussion from people who your ex has already gotten to. Statements like he’d leave you alone at a valentine’s party and i heard this was fake flood your screen.

A fleeting thought tells you to drop it. Go on with your life and ignore anyone who questions you. None of it needs to be their business.

Given that that’s not gone well for you with anything to do with your ex, you abandon that sort of thinking and push further. You’ll have to bring Shigaraki by eventually if you’re continuing this, might as well rip off the bandaid and get it over with today.

You pause at Tomura’s door, remembering that the last time you saw him he was running from your room after cumming in his pants. Please don’t be more awkward than usual you repeat to yourself. Knocking briefly, you enter unceremoniously. He abandons his game, pulling the cat ear headset onto his neck. This is a massive departure from his usual response of grumbling at you for invading his privacy.

Cutting straight to the point, you ask if he’ll continue the dating charade in person. Noting that you’ll absolutely make it worth his while.

“All this for that guy?” he asks, wrinkling his nose at the thought.

“No! Not really? It’s just,” your voice is shaking in frustration, “I know he’ll tell everyone and I don’t want my friends to pity me or be weird about it.”

“So, it’s not even about him. It’s about your old friends.”

“Exactly,” your voice sounds as desperate as you feel and you know he can sense that, “you don’t even have to stay for very long. And I’ll-”

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” he says so casually that you’re not sure he fully understands what he agreed to.

“Thank you!” you exclaim, “it’s tonight. Leave at 8?”

“Okay,” he pulls his headset back on and returns to his game. As you leave, you barely hear him mumble under his breath, “if they still listen to what he says, I think you deserve better friends. No one here would ever do that.”

Stumbling out the door of your bedroom, you realize with the amount of effort you put into looking presentable, you’re running slightly late. Shigaraki is waiting for you in the living room, having cleaned up surprisingly well. His hair is freshly washed, clothes clean, and whatever soap/deodorant combo he used smells amazing. For a moment, you forget why the two of you are going to this party together in the first place and begin to actually look forward to the evening. Giddy, even. You take a moment to remind yourself that this is the same guy who awkwardly huffs your laundry detergent because it smells like you, plays dating sims on full volume, and gets hard if you so much as glance in his direction. There’s no need to be nervous.

When you arrive, the party is already packed. Having expected a more quiet evening with maybe a few games or conversations, you’re a bit shocked to walk in and immediately see your ex trying to chug champagne from a beer bong.

“I should have warned you he’d be here,” one of your friends ushers the two of you into another room. “It’s just, you get it,” she pleads.

No, you don’t get it but you’ll keep the peace.

“Yeah, whatever,” you grumble, pouring sweet sparkling wine from a sticky bottle into two plastic cups.

“Cheers!” you say, sloshing your drink into Tomura’s. Even in a room full of people you know, you find yourself preferring to spend time with him. You have to admit he’s growing on you.

After an hour of small talk and dragging around your awkward arm candy, Shigaraki excuses himself to find a restroom. Now’s as good a time as any to refill your cup for what you're guessing is either the fourth or seventh time so you head to the kitchen. Your asshole ex misses absolutely no time in cornering you.

“You look nice tonight,” he says, arms caging you into the counter. Without a verbal response, you glare at him before ducking under his arm and walking away, champagne bottle in hand. He yells after you, “come on, that guy? He probably fucks his fist every night crying over you.”

You know he does, the two of you share a wall. And it’s cute, that’s part of why you like him. Wait…what? You’ll come back to that thought later. Heading to find Tomura in a rush, you collide with him in the hallway. Maybe it’s the dizzying amount of drinks you’ve already had but he looks so kissable. And you did say you’d make tonight worth his while.

Pulling him into the nearest door you see, you find yourself in the bathroom. Perfect.

He still has the deer in the headlights look on his face as you lock the door behind you. You set the bottle of champagne on the counter, pressing him into the corner between the door and wall. He whimpers at your touch.

Dragging your lips over his, you whisper “I thought you’d be used to me by now.” You kiss him slowly, drawing it out. He hums as you lightly suck his bottom lip between your teeth. “I mean, it’s not the first time I’ve touched you.” His mouth cracks open, letting you slide your tongue over his. “And I know what you do every night, the walls are thin. I hear it when you moan my name.”

He blushes at the thought, wanting to be ashamed but he can't. Not with the way your sweet lips linger on his.

Your hand trails down the front of his thin shirt, past the hem, and to his growing erection. Tracing the outline of him, you reach to unbutton his pants. Hand hovering over the zipper, you glance back at his face. He’s practically crying at your touch.

“P-please,” he quietly pleads.

It’s the furthest you’ve ever been with him and he hasn’t cum instantly and run away which is progress. Unzipping his pants and pulling the length of him out of his underwear, it’s prettier than you expected. He’s rock hard already, grinding himself into your hand. You wrap your fingers around his dick, stroking him slowly while you resume kissing him. Your mouth moves over his jaw and down his neck as he throws his head back, panting. His hands are fists at his side, trying hard not to touch anything.

“Fuck,” he whines, breathlessly. You suck his neck harder, bringing your free hand to massage his tip.

Immediately, he throws his clenched hands around your shoulders. He groans, covering your hands in pearly white that drips between your fingers. You hum in amusement. How many times have you made him cum without ever getting to see it? He whimpers in overstimulation as you run your hands over him a few more times to get the last few drops out.

Crimson eyes follow you through the room as you move to wash your hands.

“I- uhm, thanks,” he mumbles, struggling to pull his pants over his still hard dick. You smirk at him, while making yourself presentable again.

“Awe, fuck,” you mutter to your phone. In the four minutes you were in here with him, all hell seems to have broken loose outside. The few texts from your friends make you cringe.

your ex is out here

hes sad

you should give him another chance! he says hes really sorry

hes hotter than your new boyfriend anyways

“Ugghhh,” you grumble, taking a massive swig off the champagne bottle you nearly forgot on the bathroom counter. They know he cheated on you and they know how you felt about it, yet you're still having to deal with this.

“What, what’s going on?” Tomura asks, tailing you as you shove open the door and stumble into the hallway. You’re not really sure why, but you show him your phone.

“Oh,” he mouths, eyebrows raised. “Do you want to go?” he asks tentatively as you chug what’s left of the champagne.

As you enter the living room, one of your friends approaches, begging you to talk to him. Through double vision, you watch as your ex’s girlfriend rushes out the door, crying. She doesn’t deserve this, you decide, and neither do you. You sway slightly as you turn to Tomura who’s standing awkwardly by your side.

And, the rest of the night is black.

You don’t remember anything after that.

next - series masterlist - bnha masterlist

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @kalulakunundrum

#drama drama drama drama drama #idk #loser!shigaraki #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki smut #bnha smut #my hero academia smut #tomura shigiraki x reader #shigaraki x smut #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x y/n

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gxldencity · 2 hours ago

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Lucanis literally proposed to Dolores Mercar the day after they stopped Solas and Elgar'nan. It would've been the night of, after the celebrations but you know, busy having "we didn't die" sex and napping, lots of napping. He didn't even have a ring and he just blurted out "Marry me" when Dolores woke up.

Okay he wasn't entirely serious about it but Lucanis kinda is? He has been yearning for Dolores for years since she became his informant in Minrathous. Granted, he first fell in love with her when she was masking who she was but upon meeting her again when Dolores rescued him, Lucanis was still very much in love with her 🥺. So even if they haven't been together officially for a year, Lucanis still wants to marry her ASAP bc he has been yearning for almost a decade. He's not gonna love anyone else but her.

Teia demanded a traditional Antivan wedding for them and was already wedding planning with Dolores's brother, Dante (who had been Dolores x Lucanis shipper since Lucanis walked into their tea shop years ago and his sister had been making moon eyes at him). It was gonna be massive. It would've taken place in the Dellamorte Gardens, both the wedding and the reception. The guest list was long and apparently it included King Fulgeno III and his non bastard heirs (which was totally not gonna trigger Viago's multiple complexes). There was gonna be a separate ceremony involving Spite. There was gonna be fireworks and an ice sculpture of the couple that was a bit too risqué for the event. (Dolores has seen the sketches of it and she wanted to burn it).

Though much as they appreciated all the effort Teia and Dante into planning the biggest wedding Treviso has ever seen, Lucanis and Dolores aren't really into that? Like they're both quiet people who hate being perceived and this is far too much perceiving

So they eloped, kind of? They got married in the Lighthouse with all of their friends (so the veilguard really) and family and close allies. Ashur officiated the wedding (he gets better from the blight idc) not even as Divine Aequitas II, just as Ashur/Viper with his mask and all.

There was no giving away like in Antivan tradition. Both Lucanis and Dolores walk down the aisle together. The closest thing to a giving away is when their families meet just before they walked down the aisle. For Lucanis that would be Caterina, Illario, Teia and Viago. For Dolores, that would be her siblings, parents and every person who was involved in raising her.

Aside from that, there was no bridal or groom party. Manfred and Assan are the ring bearers ofc and they wear matching ties.

There's some hubbub about whether this would be valid when they return to Antiva bc Ashur did it based on the traditions in the Imperial Chantry but they're not gonna start a whole religious debate when there's a party! Hosted by the Caretaker.

There were speeches. Bellara cried a lot but this is a new inspo for her serials. Taash got drunk and started singing some raunchy shanties that the lords sang is supposed to be a metaphor for eternal love. Neve had a toast that was basically, "everyone here knew you two were deeply obsessed with each other that we did hitch a plan to put you two in room alone except all you did was argue."

Illario def got drunk and made it everyone's problem that his cousin is now the center of attention not him. Except this is Dolores's wedding too and while it is still absolutely awkward between Illario and Lucanis, that doesn't apply to Dolores. She is definitely not afraid to put someone in the corner even and especially if that is her cousin-in-law. Hey, Illario, remember when she barged in the middle of your Scar speech with murder in her eyes and death magic crackling underneath her fingertips? Yeah that.

Dolores's sister, Dagat is also present and she's Illario's best worstie 💔. She's not afraid to throw a brick at Illario if it means not ruining her sister's big day. (Her second plan is to get Illario to smoke elfroot with her till he's so incoherent that he's not even a problem).

Regardless, it was a lovely day and they both were crying and laughing at the end. They had a nap after all of this hehe.

Teia still demands a traditional Antivan wedding though.

Hey, hope you all had a good weekend! Unfortunately, it’s Monday =/ Fortunately, it’s time for Rook Intro Hour! 🍀🌺🌼🌸

How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)

Today’s Question(s): Does your Rook want to get married to their LI(s)? Do they care about where? Is there a specific tradition/traditions they want to follow, when they do? Who would they invite? What would they wear?

Have fun & thanks for sharing!

#dragon age #dolores mercar

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baestruly · 2 days ago

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heyyy!! i love your works!! i was wondering if you could maybe do a single dad!jj maybank x single mom! reader? maybe jj is in the store with his daughter/son and suddenly they throw a tantrum because they can’t afford a toy or something.. and jj is getting frustrated and trying to make them quiet down.. and reader is like “it’s okay” and giving him advice and stuff. and she and jj is like so thankful and then they go on a date and her daughter/son, and his daughter/son have like a play date and they’re js so happy. idk if this makes sense😭😭 i’m sorry

( 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 ) jj maybank x fem!singlemomreader

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ IN WHICH you and jj are out to get a gift for each of your sons when you cross paths

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - fluff

a/n - this was lowk requested a while ago so i'm sorry for how late this is </3

You pushed open the door, having to let go of your little one's clammy hands. You never complained, though, because he would never let you go, and you had no problem with it.

Theo was your son, and yes ━━ you’re young, blah, blah, blah, that’s what everyone says! You’re so sick of hearing the same things every day, especially the weird looks of people. Why were they so quick to judge? For all they knew he could be your little brother!

But he wasn’t and you never regretted having him for a second. Okay ━━ you regret ever getting with your now ex-boyfriend, but you’ve always tried to look for the good in situations. If you’d never met him you wouldn’t have had Theo.

Theo was a ball of joy. He loved the outdoors, especially playing near the water. The small boy would build castles with sand and collect rocks to decorate them with. Sometimes, if he found prettier ones, he would bring them back to the house and add them to the collection on his shelf. He just loved anything that had to do with nature, and it made you smile. He was growing up to be like you.

Today was his fifth birthday and to celebrate, you decided to treat him to a visit to the closest toy store not far from the beach. He had plenty of toys at home, but Theo was always grateful for anything you offered him, like new toys, books, or foods he’d never seen. He was always curious to try and learn something new.

The doorbell rang as you entered the colourful room, the walls painted with rainbow and different safari animals. Theo was already in awe as his eyes excitedly scanned the tall walls. It was funny that was the first thing he’d noticed, but of course, his eyes shifted to the Lego on the back wall and he immediately sprinted to it.

Of course, only resulting in him knocking over another kid in the process.

Oh no. Please don’t start crying━━

People have assumed you were the mean snobby type based on not only how you dressed, but what you were classified as━━a kook.

Not all kooks were snobby. So, you quickly ran up to Theo and helped him up before turning to the boy he’d knocked over, he hadn’t hit his head, but you could tell he wanted to cry and was trying his best not to.

“Oh my gosh━━I am so so━━”

Suddenly, a guy about the same age as you━━maybe his older brother? ━━ came into view above where you were crouched on the ground to talk to the little boy. He looked worried and confused about what just happened.

Immediately, you tore your eyes away to help the boy up, meeting his small blue eyes. “You okay, buddy? I’m so sorry━━Theo, say you’re sorry.”

Theo sheepishly looked up as he’d been staring at the ground, ashamed. “Sorry.” He drawled, playing with his fingers.

You were glad no one got hurt and then you remembered the other guy standing right beside you.

“Hey━━I’m so sorry for all of this, I'm glad he’s okay, sorry for the trouble—”

“Relax, relax. It’s fine, right bud!” He poked the boy in the arm, making him giggle and squeak with laughter. Then, he eyes Theo. “Just a slip-up, no need to feel bad.”

You smiled, grateful that he wasn’t that type of person and just nodded before following Theo to the legos.

After about three minutes, Theo picked out the Lego trucks as his birthday gift. Guiding him to the check-out, you noticed the boy from before stomping his feet angrily and the other crouched down trying to hold him still. He looked frustrated and it was obvious he was trying to keep that emotion at bay for the sake of everyone in the store.

But a little boy wouldn’t get that, so he just continued yelling━━something along the lines of “You promised!” And “you said that last time!.”

Scrunching your brows, you went in line behind them, hesitant because you didn’t want them to feel pressured, but that only made the boy scream louder after eyeing the toy you held for Theo.

The guy firmly placed his hands on the little boy's shoulders. “Here, listen, when I finish working for the Cameron’s boat next week, I can get you two toys instead of just one, how does that sound?” He whispered with a tough smile, trying to reason with him.

The boy had stopped his meltdown, but his anger quickly turned to disappointment with the news as his shoulders sagged once the guy took his hands off them. “Okay.”

You watched with sorrow as the guy stood up, ready to leave. But before you knew what you were doing, your hand grasped his arm.

Okay━━maybe that was bad on your part━━y’know, touching a stranger and all, but they were in a hurry, and you wanted to do something good for someone, which could also make up for the little mishap that happened earlier.

“Hey! Uh━━not that I was eavesdropping or anything, but━━um, it’s okay, y’know? I can get it, it’s no big deal.” You offered with a welcoming and reassuring smile.

The guy's face turned confused with the offer like it was the weirdest thing he’s heard in a while. Maybe it was, especially coming from a kook, to which all pogues viewed as rich stubborn brats. But that wasn’t the case with you and nor did you want Theo to be brought up like that either.

Then he shook the confusion away, face turning cold. It wasn’t some kind of setup, but he’d seemed to be going against you. “No━━I can’t accept that, thanks for the offer.”

Your voice turned into a whisper. “No, really, it’s okay.” You smiled. “Do something nice for him and forget about this, okay? I don’t know you guys, but you deserve it.”

The guy seemed hesitant as he nodded, still weary and unsure. But he looked down at the small boy standing at his side, completely unaware of the conversation between the two of you, and he stood taller.

You nodded back, going ahead to pay for Theo’s legos and an art set you guessed the other picked. The cashier seemed to notice the good deed and gave you a smile before handing you back two gifts after you paid.

Outside the toy store sat the two boys while you held the art kit in your hand.

“Hey! it seemed to be a glitch in the system, I think the person ahead said this was for you?” You looked at the boy, and his eyes immediately lit up.

“You did get it?! Wow━━thanks so much, Dad.” He yelled, bubbling with excitement as he jumped in his━━you guessed━━dad's arms.

Dad.

The words that flew out of the boy's mouth made the guy look sheepish. You knew that look all too well, the same kind where you felt you were being judged with every move. Little did he know, you were free of any judgment here!

“Hey━━uh, thanks so much, I really appreciate it.” He said gratefully, a smile on his face as he looked at the little boy and Theo, who were showing off their new toys to each other.

“It’s no big deal.” You said back, but you could tell what he was thinking━━you were a kook pitying a pogue, but that’s not what it was like at all. You’d been at his position once before and everyone deserves to live happily, whether it was just a nice gesture or a little help with problems at home. “Really. This is my little one too.”

You smiled at Theo, now immersed in some sort of giggle fit between the two boys.

“He looks a lot like you, he’s a really sweet boy.”

You smiled, “thanks.” Your heart warms at his comment. He was smiling too, but not at the two boys below, but at you. As you look up and his eyes meet yours, he awkwardly smiles again with a nod, going to grab his son's hand.

“Time to get going, buddy.” He says to him cheerfully. “It was nice to meet you guys.”

“Wait!”

His head snapped back, stopping in his tracks as his son turned too.

“I never really got your name, did I?”

━━━━━━━━

The date was set. After more talking between the two of you ━━ JJ, asked if you wanted to grab dinner later that day, of course, you said yes.

You weren’t sure where you were going to go, but in the outer banks, there were lots of nice outdoor places near the water, complete with good music and mellow lights. You couldn’t hide the excitement on your face.

“Mommy ━━ why you so happy?” Theo questions, head turning to the side momentarily before he continues driving his red toy car up the side of the wall.

You smiled. “Remember the nice man at the toy store?”

“Oh, ya! Can I pretty please have a playdate with the other boy?” Theo pleaded, abandoning his truck and running up to you, wrapping his arms around your legs.

You laugh, playfully prying him off of you. “Don’t dirty my new jeans you rascal!”

As you begin running after him, Theo’s giggles all around the room as he screams before the doorbell rings suddenly.

Did he come all this way? You could’ve met up with him, so he didn’t have to go to the kook side. Apparently, he had some enemies ━━ if that’s what you would call it.

You open the door, heart pumping fast. You’re met with a mop of blonde hair and a charming smile. “Hey.”

“Hello!” His son.

“Wowo, Mommy he did come back!” Theo screamed excitedly, not because he was talking about JJ, but because his new friend was there too.

JJ smiled sheepishly, “he couldn’t stop talking about Theo. I figured we all could see each other.”

You laughed, looking at the two boys as Theo ran inside to show JJ’s son his red toy car.

“I know a great recipe for chicken alfredo?” You question, unsure of the new situation.

JJ claps his hands, head swinging. “It’s a date.”

━━━━━━━━━━

masterlist jj masterlist

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank oneshot #fanfic #obx #obx fanfic #obx x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n #writing #imagines #oneshots

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 8 hours ago

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The Thousand Yard Stare Chapter 4

Summary: Bucky Barnes has served his country well, and at a great personal cost. After being rescued as a prisoner of war, he is struggling as he gets back into civilian life. His newfound PTSD is severe. His friends and family try to help, but he needs a lot more than they can give. His mother signs him up for a Veteran recovery home, where he meets people struggling just like him, and the home director who has her own dark past to deal with. He might just find love along the way as he searches for peace.

Warnings: mentions of physical assault, violence, being taken prisoner; sexual assault/r@pe; PTSD/anxiety/depression/panic attacks, flashbacks, nightmares; suicide/minor character death; eventual smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

Y/N had already left before anyone had woken up the next morning. Bucky found it odd, seeing as how she always greeted everyone and had breakfast ready, but this time they were left on their own to handle breakfast. He felt like the house was colder than usual without her there. He decided to text her:

Hope you have a fun day with your family. See you later tonight. Be safe.

She replied shortly after:

Thanks. See you later.

He thought her response seemed clipped, but decided not to press her on it. As he read the text Scott looked over.

“Why did you text her?” Scott asked, looking anxious.

“What?” Bucky asked.

“Ugh, I should have told you,” Scott groaned. Everyone else at the table sighed as they ate breakfast.

“What?” Bucky asked, more exasperated. “What’s going on?”

“What did she tell you she was doing today?” Scott asked warily.

“Well, yesterday none of her family showed up and I asked her about it, and she said she’d see them today,” Bucky said, feeling overwhelmed with everyone’s attention on him.

Scott rubbed his face and Wanda hummed. “She’s seeing them at the cemetery,” she said quietly. Bucky looked at her confused. Her head tilted and she sighed again. “Every year, the day after Thanksgiving, Y/N goes to the cemetery and spends the day alone. She has no family. They’re all dead. Her mom was her last living relative and she died just as Y/N was rescued from Baghdad.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as he took in this new information. He felt like throwing up. He felt so stupid. Why didn’t she say anything, or correct him when he asked about her family?

“She doesn’t like to talk about it,” Scott piped up, seeing the question in Bucky’s eyes. “This home, and anyone she helps in it, is her family. That’s why it’s her whole life. We are her soul focus,” he said sadly. “She’ll most likely have a nightmare tonight, or this weekend. A loud one,” he added. “She always does after today. We should probably figure out who’s going to help her this time.”

“Help her?” Bucky asked.

“Like she helps you with your nightmares,” Pietro spoke up.

“I can do it,” Bruce volunteered quietly.

“You did it last time Bruce, and she nearly knocked you out, don’t stress yourself,” Wanda interjected. “I can do it.”

After a few back and forth comments Bucky spoke loudly. “I’ll do it,” he volunteered. They all looked at him. “I’m closest to her room, I’ll hear her first. And she’ll be with me in the comfy room later tonight anyway. I’ll do it.”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed at him. “It takes her a while to snap out of it,” she warned. “She’ll fight you. Especially because you’re a man holding her down. She won’t recognize you at first.”

“I know,” Bucky said, remembering the few times she had helped him and he wasn’t fully coherent. “But I can do it. I’ve got her.”

Everyone nodded, the breakfast now tainted with a somber mood.

***

A few hours later as Bucky was finishing up helping Scott rake the leaves outside he went inside to shower. As he rummaged through his jacket pocket for his phone he pulled it out and saw he had a voicemail from Y/N left an hour ago. He quickly opened it as he sat on his bed and hit play.

“--but everything’s going good, Mama. We just got a new guy at the home a few months ago.”

It took Bucky a moment to realize that she wasn’t speaking to him. She had accidentally called him and left him a message, probably after answering his text earlier.

“His name is Bucky. He’s a real sweetheart.” She paused. “He’s gone through the worst thing imaginable, like me. But he’s doing really well. Soon enough I feel like he’ll be able to go home, and he won’t need me anymore.” She sniffled. “The problem is…I feel like I’m falling in love with him.”

Bucky gaped at his phone, nearly dropping it as she spoke.

“And I shouldn’t be. I know it’s not appropriate. He’s there for help, not for me to be lusting after him. That’s the last thing he needs.” She paused again. “You’d like him, Mama. Funny, kind, headstrong, kinda quiet, he’s got a great laugh when he actually fully laughs. And easy on the eyes, as you’d say,” she snickered. “I don’t know. Maybe someday, after he’s left or something. It’s nice to just get it off my chest though.” She started crying, her sniffles getting louder and a choked whimper coming out. “I miss you so much Ma–”

The voicemail ended. Bucky sat silently, his brain not fully processing what he just heard. She liked him back. Was “falling in love” with him. The looks he’d seen and the more personal, tender touches weren’t his mind tricking him. He felt elated and also uneasy. Requited love was thrumming through his mind, and yet he’d found out this information unintentionally. She hadn’t meant for him to find out. Would she have ever said anything? Would she have ever told him, even after he left the home when he was mostly recovered? He felt like the answer would be no.

Bucky was in a funk for the rest of the day, unsure of what to do or how to go about it. Should he talk to her? Or just ignore it and let her come to him when she was ready? What if she never did out of some sense of it being inappropriate or unethical? Later that night he was still stewing over it as he sat in the comfy building, holding his phone and listening to her voicemail over and over as he waited for her to come in for their session.

He quickly shut his phone off when he heard footsteps coming from outside. Y/N walked in looking tired as she shut the door behind her and turned to see him on the couch. “Oh, hey Buck, you’re here already,” she said quietly, giving him a small smile.

“Yep,” Bucky said just as quietly.

“Well, shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the walled off room. Bucky nodded and followed her into the room. She closed the door and sat herself on the couch as he sat on the bed across from her. “So last week I feel like we made some good progress in trigger points on the body. Is there anywhere else that you feel like is holding tension in your body anytime we have done these sessions?” she asked as she rummaged through her things and pulled out a notebook.

“I do, but um,” Bucky hesitated. He wasn’t sure what to say as his hands wrung in front of him. “It’s in a place that’s not exactly, uh…” he paused, watching her.

“I can’t help you with anything below the belt, Buck,” Y/N laughed as she opened her notebook. “Though I can give you some resources for sex therapists that could help you with that.”

“No, I mean yes, but no,” Bucky blushed. “It’s um…it’s my head?”

“You’re head?” Y/N looked confused.

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He decided to just address it now. Maybe if he got it out in the open now they could work through it, for better or worse. “I found something out today I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Do you want to tell me?” Y/N asked curiously.

Bucky gulped. “Well, first of all, you lied to me last night.” Y/N’s eyes minutely widened, her body freezing. “You said you were seeing your family today. You forgot to mention that they’re all gone,” Bucky said, trying to be gentle rather than accusatory. Y/N stared at him, an unreadable expression on her face. “Scott told me,” he said.

Y/N closed her eyes as she sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I should have told you, I just didn’t want to put a damper on your day with your family,” she said.

“You wouldn’t have,” Bucky said, leaning forward. “As much as you’re helping me, I’d like to think that we’re at least friends at this point, Y/N. You can tell me things, too,” he offered.

Y/N opened her eyes and looked at him, her eyes now shining with unshed tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Bucky held a hand out to her and she reached forward taking it with one of hers. “C’mere,” he said, pulling her hand toward him. Y/N laughed a little then stood from the couch and walked up to him. He moved back on the bed to lay down and pulled her next to him. She was usually the one to hold him against her when they had cuddle sessions, but this time he was the one holding her, tucking her head into his chest.

“I’m supposed to be cuddling you, sir,” Y/N laughed again, wiping her eyes.

“This is my cuddle session to do with as I please, ma’am,” Bucky scoffed at her, running his fingers through a part of her hair.

Y/N giggled and nuzzled into his chest, her hands fisting into his sweater. They lay together for a while, neither of them wanting to interrupt the quiet. Bucky wanted to bring up the voicemail, but decided it would have to wait for another day. She just needed comfort, a friend, and he was more than willing to be that for her. The rest could wait.

***

Bucky awoke to the sound of whimpering, his chest being hit by something. He moved away from the offending thing hitting him and tried to adjust his eyes to the darkened room. He looked down to see Y/N squirming on the bed next to him. They had fallen asleep in the cuddle room. As he started to try to sit up Y/N stiffened. Bucky watched her body go rigid, her hands grasping the blankets beneath her. Her head wrenched back and she suddenly screamed.

The scream was unearthly and Bucky backed up again. His eyes were comically wide as she twitched, the scream dying in her throat before she took another deep breath and screamed again. He jumped into action, desperately wanting that awful noise to stop.

“Y/N! Hey, wake up,” he said loudly, sitting up on his knees and hovering over her. His hands gently shook her shoulders but she just tried twisting away from him. “Y/N!” he yelled this time, more firmly shaking her. Another scream reverberated through the room and he cringed. Tears were streaming down her face and she cried loudly.

“NO!” she yelled.

Bucky started tapping her cheek. “It’s not happening to you now, sweetheart, come on! It’s just a bad memory. Come back!” he yelled, trying to speak into her ear more. He gave her cheek one harder slap and her eyes flew open. “Y/N?” he asked tentatively.

Y/N’s eyes turned to him in fear and she pushed against him. She was surprisingly strong and sent him flying into the wall next to the bed. “No!” she yelled again, scrambling away from him.

“Y/N, it’s me!” Bucky said, quickly collecting himself. He moved toward her on the bed. In her panic she wasn’t able to focus on getting her limbs to do what she wanted so she fell off the bed to the floor and started crawling away from him toward the corner of the room. Bucky jumped off the bed and tried to help her up but she wrenched her body away. “Y/N, come on…ugh!” Bucky yelped as she kicked his leg out from underneath him. He fell on top of her, which made her scream harder. He used the position to keep her from hitting him as he turned her to face him. He gripped her hands with one hand and held them on her chest while the other kept himself upright. Y/N was thrashing against him, trying to get away. “Y/N! LOOK AT ME!” he bellowed.

Y/N finally stopped and stared up at him, breathing heavily. Her eyes flickered across his face, recognition slowly showing on her face. “Come back to me, sweetheart,” Bucky breathed, staring into her eyes. “It’s just me, Bucky, okay? You were having a nightmare,” he slowly released her hands. “It’s just a bad memory. That’s what you always tell me, right? It’s not happening to you now. You’re here, at home. You’re safe,” he stroked her cheek with his fingers. She blinked rapidly at his touch and released a sharp breath.

“Bucky,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Bucky smiled. “Come on, let’s get you off the floor.” He slowly pulled himself off of her and pulled her up by her arms. Y/N let him guide her and then stood in front of him like she was zoned out, her eyes looking around as she was still grounding herself. Bucky leaned down to her eye level and cupped her face, making her look at him. “Hey,” he said lowly. Her eyes found him again. “Hey you,” he smiled. “It’s just you and me, right here, right now. I’ve got you,” he said, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. Y/N sagged in his hold, her hands reaching up and grasping his wrists. “I’ve got you,” he repeated, leaning his forehead against hers.

Next thing he knew she was kissing him. He froze, his mind short circuiting for a split second, then he closed his eyes and kissed her back. At first it was soft, neither of them moving. Bucky pulled away and looked for any hesitation in her face, but only saw a deep desire looking back at him. He dove back in and kissed her hard, pulling a moan from her. Y/N’s arms moved to wrap around his neck, kissing him passionately, running her fingers through his hair just how he liked during their cuddle sessions.

Bucky moved his hands from her face down to her lower back, wrapping his arms around and holding her to him. Y/N’s nails scratched his scalp, making him shiver against her. He started moving them back towards the bed, acting on instinct that he thought long lost as he maneuvered her onto the bed until he was hovering over her. Y/N’s mouth opened and her tongue licked along his lower lip, and he happily reciprocated by tasting her back. She moaned again, her hands now gripping his shoulders for support.

Bucky’s hands were slowly running down her sides to her hips, his right hand kneading her left thigh as he brought it up around his hip. His other hand was tickling along her stomach then his fingers went under the hem of her shirt, skimming along her skin. A small part of his brain was yelling at him to think this through, that she hadn’t confessed her feelings to him yet, that she had just woken up from a nightmare that was a huge emotional toll, what this would mean for them later, but it all felt too good. Her perfect hands on his face, in his hair, her plushy skin under his fingers, the way her tongue felt on him, the sweet noises she made. As her nails scratched down his chest he moaned into her mouth.

Y/N stilled, her fingers freezing and then pushing against his chest. He pulled away panting as he looked at her questioningly. Y/N looked at him in shock, looking down between them and then gasping. She pushed him away, making him flop onto the bed next to her and quickly stood up, gathering her things.

“I’m sorry Bucky,” she said, adjusting her clothes.

“What? Hold on,” Bucky stood, reaching for her arm which she quickly dodged. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N repeated, moving towards the door. “That was wrong. I apologize.”

“Y/N wait,” Bucky said, blocking her way to the door. “Talk to me, hey,” he reached out and held her arms.

“We can’t do this, Buck,” Y/N said, shutting her eyes tight.

“Why not?” Bucky asked, squeezing her arms.

“I’m supposed to be helping you, not dating you,” Y/N answered, keeping her head turned toward the floor. “Thank you for helping me get out of that nightmare. I’m sorry for my emotional response.”

“I kissed you, too,” Bucky said, cupping her face again and bringing her face up. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Y/N’s eyes flew open at the pet name but she shook her head. “Don’t call me that,” she said, trying to move away.

“Y/N please!” Bucky raised his voice. “I wanted that, too. I kissed you back. I want you. I got a voicemail from you earlier today.” Y/N’s brow furrowed in confusion. “It was you talking to what I’m assuming was your mom’s grave,” he continued. Her eyes widened. “You said you were falling in love with me,” Bucky said. “And I’ve been falling for you for a while now.”

Y/N shook her head again. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does,” Bucky said imploringly. “How could you say that?”

“I can’t have you,” Y/N sniffed, some tears starting to form in her eyes again. “Not now. Not like this, when you’re in my care–”

“You’re not my therapist,” Bucky cut in. “Having a relationship with you is not unethical or a breach of trust or conduct. I want this,” he leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I want you,” he said, kissing down her face, making her sigh. “All I want is you,” he breathed, his lips grazing her lips.

Y/N whimpered as he gave her lips a short kiss, but she quickly took another step back. “Bucky, please understand–”

“I’ll wait,” Bucky interrupted. Y/N froze. “I can wait until my time here is done. Once you and Dr. Strange feel like I’m healed well enough to leave, then we can do this,” he gestured between the two of them. “Please don’t push me away.”

Y/N huffed a sharp breath, her eyes flickering between his. She was contemplating, and he didn’t dare let go of her as she thought it through.

“What if your recovery takes a long time?” she asked. “You can’t rush yourself through recovery for the sake of a possible relationship afterwards. You have to do this right–”

“I will,” Bucky promised.

“Can you honestly wait that long?” Y/N asked. “And when it is done how will you…your family lives a few hours away, your whole life is there. How would this even work?”

“We can figure all that out when the time comes,” Bucky said, his hands slipping down to her shoulders.

She stared at him for another minute. “I don’t…I don’t know,” she shook her head, looking down.

“Think about it,” Bucky said quietly, massaging her shoulders. “Either way, I’ll wait for you.” He lifted her chin with his fingers and leaned in, kissing her deeply one last time. “Just remember, you’re all I want sweetheart. And I’ve got you. No matter what you choose.” He gave her a sad smile, pulled his hands away then walked out of the room and back towards the house. He didn’t know what would happen from here, but hoped for the best.

@wintrsoldrluvr @isitbiorisitlesbian @starfly-nicole @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger @idontknowhowtonormal

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